Distant Shores Part 1: The Rules of Engagement
by Matthew White
Summary: Three part trilogy; Life in San Diego proves to be anything but normal for newlyweds Harm and Mac. As they begen their lives together as husband and wife, world events transpire which threaten to rob them of their happiness, and each other.
1. Prologue

**Distant Shores: Part 1**

**The Rules of Engagement**

**A JAG Story**

Written by Matthew R. White

© October 15, 2013

Based on the Characters and series created by Donald P. Bellisario

...

**Historian's Note:** This story takes place about two months after the events in _After the Toss_ which was set at the end of the series.

**Author's Note:** This series which I hope to write as a trilogy, is a sequel to my stories, _Turning Points, Mending Fences, Chances and Choices,_ and _After the Toss._ I would recommend reading them in the order listed here. Whenever possible, I will try to incorporate real Navy and Marine bases and ship names except those firmly rooted in canon. (I.e. JAG HQ in Falls Church and the _USS Patrick Henry_, _USS Seahawk_, etc.) The writers of _JAG_ incorporated real world events into the series, in the interest of realism, a trend I will continue, however some world events depicted here will be strictly fiction.

...

**Prologue:**

**June 7, 2005 03:35 ZULU**

**USS Patrick Henry**

**Sea of Japan, 150 Miles east of the North Korean Coast.**

Deep in the bowels of the _Nimitz_ class super carrier, Captain Robert Carlson the ship's CAG, or Commander Air Group, watched the tactical display in the darkened cave which was the ship's CIC. The Combat Information Center, illuminated mostly by layers of computer, radar displays, and communications equipment was the nerve center for the entire task force.

Despite being located under the ship's island superstructure, the sounds of aircraft landing on the deck still permeated the compartment. The last time Carlson had seen such extensive flight ops was when he was a young ensign, serving on the _Ticonderoga_ during the Vietnam War.

Standing next to him was the ship's commanding officer, Captain Tobias Ingles.

"Looks like it's going to be another busy day, Skipper," Carlson said to his boss, pointing to the blips on the display. If I didn't know better, I'd think they were trying to goad us into a fight."

"A fight they will find very exciting, for a very short period of time, Bob," offered Ingles. "I have no doubt that if things were to get serious, we would clean their clocks in short order. Are all your men clear on the ROE?"

"Very clear, Skipper," replied the CAG, having reviewed the rules of engagement personally with each squadron.

"The last thing I need is to deal with a JAG-MAN investigation this close to retirement," added the ship's captain. Ingles had been in command of the _Patrick Henry_ for almost seven years. He also enjoyed the amenities of being a _plank owner_.

The crackling of the communications circuit caught the attention of both men.

"Eagle base, this is Lookout One. Two bogies, angels thirty, bearing two, seven, nine, heading, zero, eight, three, speed, three, five, zero, range, one, two, zero, and closing."

"Eagles one, and two, move to intercept," ordered the CAG.

The E2C Hawkeye, was flying in a circular pattern about thirty miles to the southwest of the task force's current position. Radar data from the remote aircraft was fed into the ship's combat information system, showing the blips in real time.

It had been the same game most of the day. The Korean Peoples Air Force fighters would suddenly turn towards the American task force assuming a provocative posture before breaking away and turning for home, engaging in what the top brass had called saber rattling. With America forces engaged in both Iraq and Afghanistan, it came to no surprise to Carlson that the North Koreans would exploit the opportunity to their advantage.

The KPAF aircraft involved were mostly MIG-21s, but they had been able to identify a squadron of MIG-23s. They had yet to spot any MIG-29s, which, with a well trained pilot, were more than a match for the F/A-18 Hornets. Carlson had seen the latest intel reports, however, and they indicated that the MIG-29s were deployed to protect the capitol city of Pyongyang. He didn't expect to ever see any of them venture too far from home.

"More MIG-21s," asked the Skipper?

"Probably, they have more of those than any other fighter," replied the CAG. "If they do ever send up the varsity, I might start to get a little nervous. That new Russian anti-ship missile is nothing to take lightly. The good news is the KPAF can only carry them on a MIG-29."

"Who's flying CAP?"

"Tuna, Athena, Bullfrog, Snake, and Splashdown," replied the CAG, referring to the aviators by their call signs. "Tuna has the lead, today."

_Tuna and Athena,_ a_n interesting pair, to say the least,_ thought Carlson. Shipboard scuttlebutt had the two aviators, Lt. Commander Michael Costa and Lt. Commander Katherine Skunzia, joined at the hip, so to speak, an accusation which the two of them vehemently denied. But Bob Carlson had seen the interplay between them and he was sure their relationship was more than platonic.

Whatever form their relationship took, it hadn't interfered one iota with their duties so Carlson chose to look the other way. _Whatever they do on their own time is their business._

_..._

Fifty miles to the west, Lt. Commander Mike Costa pushed his F-18 through Mach 1 hoping to intercept the incoming aircraft before they got too close to the task force. As had been the drill for the past few days, the rival aircraft would try to maneuver into firing position and achieve weapons lock on their opponent. Technically, a non-lethal exercise, Mike knew the danger here was very real. Still, he tended to make light of it.

"So, Katie," he said to his wingman over the radio. "Are you ready to twist some tail with these guys?"

"I don't know, Mike, I've got a bad feeling about this one," she replied.

By the sound of her voice, he knew she was serious. Trusting her intuition, he replied, "Let's drop to subsonic. I'll break high and right and see if these guys are alone."

Costa pulled off the power and pulled his Hornet into a banking climb, allowing his radar to view the incoming targets from a different perspective.

"Lookout one, this is Eagle one. Verify number of targets."

"Eagle one, I am now tracking four, repeat, four inbounds. Sixty miles and closing fast!"

"Katie, break right and form back up on me," he said, knowing this was going to be a fur ball. _Shit!_

_..._

Back in the CIC, Captain Carlson had been listening to the events unfold. Bypassing the Petty Officer at communications, he picked up the mic himself. "Eagle three, Eagle four, back up one and two, your speed is buster. Eagle one, this is Home Plate, do not, repeat, do not engage until additional aircraft arrive."

...

Costa chaffed at the order to disengage and would have protested had it not been for the unshakable trust in his friend and wingman.

"Copy, Home Plate. Breaking off."

Costa banked his F-18 into a gentle bending turn which would draw the potentially hostile aircraft away from the fleet while allowing time for the rest of his group to arrive. _Then we can have some fun with these guys._

"Tuna, this is Bullfrog. We are thirty seconds out and still supersonic. We'll form on your right wing."

"Roger, Bullfrog. Home Plate, this is Eagle one. Request permission to engage targets."

"Eagle one, permission to intercept and identify is approved, weapons hold. Remember the ROE, Commander," replied Carlson.

"Understood, CAG. Eagle one to group, we'll take them down the left side, once they pass, break and engage!"

Costa was blessed with better than average eyesight, a trait which gave him a step up as an aviator. What he saw when the opposing aircraft came into view, chilled him to the bone. The enemy aircraft were MIG-29s and had opened fire.

The 30mm canon rounds from the MIG tore through the left side of Costa's aircraft, damaging his portside engine and causing his plane to trail smoke. He was a sitting duck.

...

"Tuna…Mike!" exclaimed Katie. "Are you all right?"

Skunzia slammed her stick hard over, banking into a steep turn in an effort to cut off the enemy MIG which was closing on Tuna's six. Once she had lined up, she triggered off a round of 20mm cannon shells into the cockpit of the enemy aircraft. The MIG-29 caught fire and rolled over like a dead whale as it dove towards the sea.

"Athena, watch your six!" cried Bullfrog.

"I've got her covered," another voice yelled. "Athena, break left."

Instinctively she pulled into a hard left bank allowing Splashdown to smoke the MIG which had been trailing her.

The battle was over almost as fast as it started with Bullfrog downing another MIG before the last one decided to bug out.

"Where's Mike?" Athena called over the radio.

"Right beside you, Katie," replied her friend. She looked out her starboard side and felt a surge of relief pour through her heart. But she shuddered when she saw the condition of his aircraft.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again," she replied. "Did anyone else get hit?"

"Snake got hit with a missile," said Bullfrog. "I saw him punch out and I saw a good chute. I was going to drop to the deck and see if I can locate him."

"Take Splashdown with you to cover your six. Loiter here as long as fuel permits. I'm escorting Tuna back to the ship."

"Katie, wait just a second," protested Costa, but Katherine wasn't hearing any of it.

"No arguments, Mike, I don't even know if you'll make it back with the condition your plane is in. Form up on me. That's an order!"

Although they we both the same rank, Costa had eight months time in grade on her, but he offered no further resistance. _He'd better not if he knows what is good for him._

_..._

In the CIC Captain Tobias turned to the CAG, and spoke just loud enough for him to hear, "Still think there is nothing going on between them, Bob?

With that, he made his way out of the CIC, presumably heading for the bridge.

"Petty Officer Clemens, notify the Air Boss, we have a damaged aircraft coming in. Have him dispatch a helo and commence SAR operations in the area where Snake went down."

"Aye, aye, sir."


	2. A Walk on the Beach

**Chapter 1:**

**04:03 ZULU**

**Rabb Residence, San Diego, CA**

Gentle waves from the Pacific Ocean lapped the shore of the five mile long private beach as the sun began to dip below the horizon. Perched high above the coastline on a natural bluff, and holding on to her new husband's arm, Sarah MacKenzie Rabb descended the long stairway leading to the beach.

The view of the sunset from here had memorized her the first time she had seen it, a week and a half after arriving in San Diego. And their new home, a four bedroom contemporary, with a walkout balcony off the master bedroom, a house she had fallen in love with at first sight. She had sent a picture of the place to Harm while he was still in Washington, tying up loose ends. The caption she added had read, one can only dream.

Sarah had lived simply during her stint in the Marine Corps, banking every penny she could. The only extravagant purchase she ever made was her candy apple red newer model Corvette, and even that was purchased second hand. Okay, it was practically brand new but because it was a lease which was returned after a few weeks, she had gotten an incredible deal.

In all the years they had known each other, Mac and Harm had never discussed money until now which made sense as they had gone from close friends to husband and wife in the matter of a month. They were still learning important things about each other.

Mac was pleased to learn her fiancé was a saver. In addition to his time at JAG, Harm had accrued extra income with flight pay, at sea, and combat pay. In addition, his stint in the CIA had brought him a significant amount of money, which he had squirreled away. Both of them had made some good investments and when they compared their finances they found they had accrued enough capital to place a sizable amount on the home, however, they didn't have enough to drop the mortgage payments to something manageable unless they completely drained both their accounts.

A week before their wedding, they were having dinner with Harm's parents Trish and Frank. When Trish asked about the house, Harm had to tell her that they needed to pass on it and they were going to look in a less expensive and less desirable neighborhood. After dinner, Trish pulled Mac aside.

_"I know Harm is not going to like this, but Frank and I are going to give the two of you some financial help so you can purchase your dream home…"_

_"Mrs. Burnett, you're right, Harm isn't going to like it and neither am I. Please, don't misunderstand me, we both appreciate the offer, but, we need to do this ourselves…"_

_"Sarah, I told you to call me Trish, or Mom, after all, you are going to be my daughter."_

Mac had felt her heartstrings being tugged at. She had never really had much of a family life, until now and she had seen the sincerity in her future mother in law's eyes. She had to force herself to hold back the tears.

_"Just listen to me for a moment,"_ Trish continued._ "Frank and I are set for life. We have more money than we could ever know what to do with and when we are gone, you and Harm are going to get it anyway. I would much rather give it to you now, so the two of you can make a good home for our grandchildren."_

_"Trish, I don't know if Harm and I will be able to have children…"_

_"You already have Mattie."_

It was the one thing Trish could say to make her surrender and the one thing she could say to Harm which forced him to agree. Mac and Harm closed on the house two weeks ago.

The past few weeks had been crazy for both of them and if it hadn't been for Trish and Harriet, their wedding would have been a disaster. They were married in a Saturday evening ceremony on May 21, 2005, and while the wedding wasn't quite as extravagant as she would have liked, all off the people she cared about were there, including the Admiral, who walked her down the aisle.

They had a brief reprise the week following the wedding while they honeymooned in Hawaii. Six days and seven nights of marital bliss, and Sarah smiled as she remembered how the first two days were spent.

Mattie had made remarkable strides in her recovery after she learned Mac and Harm were engaged. Over the phone, she had told Mac, _"Whatever it takes, I'm going to walk again so I can be in your wedding."_ And walk she did, with a little help from Bud's brother Mikey. Of course, Bud was Harms' Best Man and Harriet was Mac's Matron of Honor.

Harm had been right when he told her the reason Bud and Harriet had chosen to stay in Washington. Once they found out that Mac was going to marry Harm and they would be together in San Diego, they decided to make the move allowing Bud to accept the offer as Mac's executive officer.

As they reached the beach, Mac undid her cover revealing the royal blue bikini underneath. Turning to her husband, she unbuttoned his shirt and drew him into a long embrace.

This had been the first day since returning from their honeymoon that they were able to get some much needed down time and just enjoy being in love, and being with each other.

"Penny for your thoughts?" asked Harm as they drew apart to face each other.

"I'm…overwhelmed, Harm," she replied. "Everything is just starting to catch up with me."

"It has been one hell of a ride, Mac." He reached down and brushed a tear from her cheek. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just thinking, that's all."

"Regrets?" he asked.

"Only one," she replied, looking intently at him. "I should have done this the day we made the baby deal."

"Would you have been able to deal with me being out to sea, Mac?"

"Knowing what I know now, yeah, I could."

Joining hands they strolled down the beach as the last vestiges of sunshine disappeared below the horizon. They had just reached their favorite spot, a line of rocks jutting out of the sand a few hundred yards south of their home when they heard someone calling. A lone figure was running down the beach from the direction of their home.

"You expecting company, Mac?"

"No…hey…that sounds like Gunny."

A few moments later, Gunnery Sergeant Victor Galindez came up to them and snapped to attention.

"At ease, Gunny," said Mac. "What is it?"

"Sir, Ma'am," he began. "CNAF set me out to find you. He's called an emergency briefing set to begin in two hours. Ma'am, General Cresswell wants you to represent JAG at the briefing."

"What the hell is going on, Gunny, World War Three?"

"It could be, sir. The KPAF attacked a flight of F-18s operating over the Sea of Japan. They shot one down and damaged another. The damaged aircraft made it back to the carrier but crashed during landing. The pilot managed to punch out at the last minute but he's in serious condition."

"My God, Harm?" said Mac, to her husband.

"It gets worse, Ma'am. The North Koreans are blaming us. They say our plane fired first."

"Let's move," said Harm. "We don't have much time."

The three of them ran back to the stairway. _So much for our evening alone,_ thought Mac.


	3. Assuming Command

**Chapter 2:**

**05:30 ZULU**

**En-route to North Island NAS**

Lost in thought, Harm navigated their SUV through the traffic that was worse than anything he had experienced on the east coast. Beside him, his wife seemed to be preoccupied with thoughts of her own. She had been silent since the couple had showered and donned their uniforms after Gunny's unexpected visit. Harm had asked her if she wanted to talk but she declined, instead reaching for his hand. Harm knew this was her way of staying connected with him while she sorted things out for herself. She would open up to him when she was ready.

The briefing had been called by Rabb's new boss, the CNAF. Harm found his mind drifting back to the day he had arrived to assume command of his new squadron.

...

**14:00 ZULU**

**May 11, 2005 Four weeks earlier**

**North Island NAS**

Captain Rabb ascended the stairway leading to the administration building which housed the offices of the multiple commands located at North Island. Located on the top floor was the office of Vice Admiral Nathan Blackmore, the current Commander Naval Air Forces.

Rabb knew the Vice Admiral only by his reputation as a hard driving aviator who took care of his men, as long as they pleased him. And when they didn't, well, Blackmore had handed more than one naval aviator his head and sent him or her packing to some obscure posting in the middle of nowhere. Harm knew of one instance in particular, Lt. Andrew Buxton, a naval aviator who had a promising career in flying but allowed his need to be the best cloud his judgment.

Much to his surprise, and delight, this building was also home to the new JAG Joint Legal Service Center, the same billet now commanded by his fiancée. The new JAG offices and courtrooms comprised much of the second floor with the remainder of the building being relegated to support staff and food services. Rabb had been told his office would be located somewhere in this building. _Probably an unused closet on the ground floor,_ he thought.

Harm had visited his wife's office the day before, right after she had picked him up at the airport. Although it was a tad smaller, her office reminded him of Cresswell's digs back at JAG HQ. In addition, she had just been informed that Cresswell put her in for accelerated promotion and the Marine Corps O-6 board was scheduled to meet next month.

Stepping off the elevator, Harm made his way down the corridor to a well marked and nicely apportioned section which housed the top brass. Passing through the glass doors he approached the petty officer who served as Blackmore's yeoman.

"Captain Rabb," the young lady said, in greeting. "You may go right in, sir. Admiral Blackmore is expecting you."

Harm walked into the Admiral's office and came to attention. Blackmore was standing, facing the window which looked out over the airfield below. The man was tall, as tall as Rabb, and had a full head of slate grey hair which he kept trimmed as short as a cadet. His powerfully built frame which made him look like a linebacker lacked any excess fat.

"Captain Harmon Rabb Jr. reporting as ordered, sir."

Blackmore turned from the window, allowing Harm to see his face for the first time. His eyes were lined from many years of squinting into the sun and his face was weather worn from years at sea, but his eyes held an almost ancient wisdom in them. Harm knew he was being sized up by the Admiral and wondered for a moment if Blackmore had taken an instant dislike to him. That fear dissipated when Blackmore extended his hand and spoke warmly.

"Captain Rabb," he said, as they shook hands firmly, not letting go right away. "It's good to finally meet you, face to face. General Cresswell speaks very highly of you."

"Thank you, sir," said Harm as they released the handshake. _Man, he has an iron grip,_ thought Harm.

"Have a seat, Captain," said the Admiral. As if reading his thoughts, Blackmore added, "You have a good grip, I like that. It says a lot about a man."

Blackmore paused a beat before adding, "You look almost exactly like your father, Harm. The resemblance is uncanny."

"You knew my father, sir?" asked Harm. He was clearly surprised and the Admiral seemed to be enjoying himself.

"Served with him on the _Tico_," Blackmore replied. "I was assigned to CAP flying F-8s while your dad flew Iron Hand missions in F-4s. He was one hell of a pilot, Captain."

Rabb thought he had met most of the men who had flown with his father through Admiral Boone, but Blackmore would have been in a different squadron.

"I'm surprised Admiral Boone never mentioned you, sir."

"Tom and I lost contact with each other for quite a few years after Nam. I didn't speak with him again until he made flag rank. In fact, I spoke with him last week, concerning you. It seems like you saved his six a few years ago."

"He would have done the same for me, Admiral."

Blackmore opened a file on his desk.

"Let's take a look at your career, shall we?"

"Yes, sir."

"Let's see, Silver Star for valor, for leading a nuclear missile away from the _USS Seahawk_, Two DFCs, one for saving Tom Boone's life, the second for pushing another aircraft into friendly territory, using the tailhook, and you're up for a third for intercepting that terrorist attempt to blow up an oil rig. This would be an impressive career for a full time aviator, never mind someone who spends most of his time as a JAG officer. How did you know that Cesena was hostile?"

"They were ignoring the radio warnings, Admiral. The CAG and I assumed the aircraft was on autopilot. I first tried to tip them off course by lifting their wings, but the autopilot wouldn't disengage. When I saw the pilot's lips moving, I knew he wasn't unconscious. Hostile intent was all that was left, sir."

"You didn't call for weapons free?"

"Wasn't time, Admiral, they were already in the red zone. As it was, some of the fragments were found later on the oil rig."

"It took balls to make that call, Captain. Most guys your age would have called it in and made it someone else's problem."

"I could have just as easily been wrong, Admiral," said Harm. "Had it not been for the fact that the bodies of the dignitaries were located, I would have faced a court martial."

"That's the real pisser about command decisions. You can be right, and you can be wrong, but do you know what's worse?"

"Sir?"

"Being uncertain," said Blackmore. "You've proved yourself time and again to be capable of making sound command decisions. I think you'll do just fine in this billet."

"Thank you, sir."

"So Captain, what do you think of the new bird?"

Harm let out a small sigh. "She looks like a piece of heaven, sir. But, I don't imagine I'll be spending much time in the air."

"Don't hang your G-suit up yet, Captain. Despite what Cresswell might have told you about this billet, you are going to have more than your share of flight time with her."

"Is she as much a dream to fly as she looks?"

"Well, I wouldn't know about that, Captain, but I know someone who does," Blackmore paused, seeming to look over Harm's shoulder. "Come on in, Jack. I'd like you to meet your new boss."

"What's a matter, Admiral? The Navy couldn't find any good pilots so they had to dig up this old retread?"

Harm spun around, instantly recognizing the voice. He was on his feet in a second.

"Keeter!"

Commander John Keeter came to attention before taking his friend's hand.

"Hammer, when the Admiral told me you were taking this job, I thought he was doing a number on me. How you been, Harm. It's been a while since Iran hasn't it? How's Mac?"

"She's fine, Jack, in fact, she's here in San Diego. I'm surprised you haven't run into her yet."

"Well I've been out of town for a few weeks, that's probably why I missed her. What else is going on with you?"

"Well, Mac and I are getting married next Saturday."

Jack Keeter's face broke into a huge grin.

"What the hell, beggin' the Admiral's pardon, sir. What took you so long?"

"It's a very long story, Jack. We sent out the invitations yesterday. Yours went to your FPO."

"Well I'll be there, just tell me when and where," replied Keeter. He took the seat next to Harm."

"Your fiancée, her name is, Mac?" questioned the Admiral.

"Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, sir."

"Ah yes, she's commanding the JLSC. Cresswell mentioned her to me. Tell me, Captain, is she as put away as her record shows?"

"And then some, sir."

"I'd like to meet her sometime," said the Admiral. "You can learn a great deal about a man by knowing a little about the woman he loves."

"Don't judge her by the way she looks, Admiral. I've seen her drop men twice my size."

"I know better than that, Captain," chuckled the Admiral. "Do you think she'd ever consider coming over to the Navy?"

"Not a chance in hell, Admiral," said Harm.

"Too bad," said Blackmore. "So Jack, why don't you tell Harm about the new bird."

"You're going to love flying her, Harm. She's like a Tomcat on steroids with the radar profile of an insect. She'll do 1.8 Mach without afterburner and you can fly her backwards for short periods using the thrust vectoring. We have a pair of two seat trainer/recon variants and four strike aircraft. Eight more are slated to be delivered by November."

"Has anyone else in the squadron flown it besides you?"

"Not yet, they were just delivered two days ago. I just got back from the Lockheed plant last week so I'm fully checked out on the bird. I can get you up to speed within a week, Captain."

"Great, when do we start?"

"As soon as the Admiral and I show you your new office," replied Keeter.

...

**05:45 ZULU**

**North Island NAS**

"Harm…Harm?

"Harm!"

Rabb snapped back to the here and now. "Sorry, Mac," he offered, as he killed the ignition. "You were saying?"

"You were really out there for a moment. Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," he replied.

"I was saying I might need your help on this one, Harm. I'm sure the SECNAV is going to be looking to hang someone if it gets out that we opened fire first."

"I'll be there if you need me, Mac"

Sarah nodded her head, "We better get inside, before they start without us," she offered.

As they walked into the administration building, Harm thought to himself, _SECNAV must be going apeshit!_


	4. Meeting with the Brass

**Chapter 3:**

**06:15 ZULU**

**Administration Building, Command Conference Room**

**North Island NAS**

Seated next to her husband, Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie was taking furious notes, in an attempt to answer the various legal questions which she knew would be forthcoming. She and Harm were the only two officers in the room without stars on their shoulders. There was more brass in this room than was leftover after a Marine Corps live fire exercise. The whole situation was surreal and she expected, or, more accurately, was hoping to wake up finding this was all a bad dream.

She looked over to her husband and although his expression was poker faced, the nine years of shared history between them allowed her to see the genuine concern in his eyes. He glanced her way with an expression which was the equivalent of, _this is very bad._ She nodded in return before shifting her attention back to the front.

A large view screen displayed the image of the SECNAV as his voice bellowed through the conference bridge.

The pilot in question, Lt. Commander Michael Costa had made it back to the ship only to crash his F-18 Hornet into the deck. Costa had still not regained consciousness. His wingman, Lt. Commander Katherine Skunzia had made a sworn statement attesting that the other side had fired first and their flight returned fire only in self defense.

Of course Washington had heard a different story, through diplomatic channels. The North Koreans claimed that the American flight had fired first, starting with the lead plane, the aircraft piloted by Lt. Commander Costa and their pilots responded in kind. At least that was the story given by the sole survivor on the KPAF side.

"Captain Rabb, Colonel MacKenzie," the SECNAV called, addressing them at last. "Most of what is going on here wouldn't normally concern you, however, Lt. Commander Costa's blood sample, taken after the crash, showed a blood alcohol level of .06. Now while a subject with that amount of alcohol in his or her bloodstream is not considered legally intoxicated, this level does violate the zero percent rule for flight status. Any thoughts?"

"Lt. Commander Costa will have to face an Article 32, for violation of intoxicating substance regulations, resulting in the loss of an aircraft, that much is clear," said Mac. "I'm still uncertain how he smuggled a bottle aboard ship?"

"But this has nothing to do with the question as to who fired first," said Harm. "His wingman signed an affidavit, stating, the other side fired first. It's cut and dry, unless there is something you're not telling us."

"Very perceptive, both of you," commented the SECNAV. "Apparently Costa and Skunzia had just returned from a 48 hour liberty to Seoul. They were in the air less than two hours after returning to the ship, and there's more. It would appear these two officers are involved in a romantic relationship. The convening authority believes Lt. Commander Skunzia is covering for her wingman. He has brought charges against both of them."

"Who is the convening authority, sir?" asked Harm.

"I believe you know him, Captain Rabb. The charges were brought by the commanding officer of the _USS Patrick Henry,_ Captain Tobias Ingles."

Harm and Mac exchanged another unreadable look.

"I've already spoken to General Cresswell and we are in agreement. This is a serious situation and it will require a carefully thought out response. Seeing that the incident took place in the Asian theater, Cresswell has assigned the investigation and eventual prosecution to FJA Asia. Captain Alison Krennick. Assisting her will be one of the lawyers from Cresswell's staff, Lt. Gregory Vukovic since he is already wrapping up an investigation in Japan."

"Couldn't happen to a nicer guy," Harm mouthed, just loud enough for her to hear.

She struggled to suppress a grin and kicked him under the table, gaining some small satisfaction in his pained expression.

"Colonel, Captain, I want both of you to get out there as well since you will have the job of providing defense counsel for Costa and Skunzia. Cresswell tells me that the two of you were considered the varsity team at JAG. With Captain Krennick in the mix we'll have the best litigators available to handle this case. One more thing, in the interests of keeping a fragile peace, representatives from the North Korean military will be allowed to view these proceedings..."

"Excuse me, sir," interrupted, Rabb. "Is that wise, I mean, allowing representatives of the North Korean forces onboard a super carrier?"

"Your objection is noted, Captain Rabb. Trust me, you are not alone. But this order comes directly from the President."

"I understand, sir. My apologies."

"Mr. Secretary," began Mac. "What happened to the other American pilot? Did the SAR helo find him?"

"Yes, Colonel, they did. Unfortunately, he is still in a coma, which is too bad for us. According to Lt. Commander Skunzia, Lt. Gingell would have been able to collaborate their story."

"What about the gun camera footage?" asked Harm.

"Costa's aircraft was so badly shot up that I doubt we would have been able to recover anything even if he had been able to land the bird. As for Skunzia, she stated that she didn't have the correct orientation to capture the exchange on film. And since Lt. Gingell's aircraft is resting at the bottom of the Sea of Japan, we have no solid evidence either way."

"Any other questions?, asked the SECNAV. "Very well. Admiral Blackmore will see to your travel arrangements. That's all."

SECNAV cut the connection and the screen went blank. Admiral Blackmore stood and addressed the group.

"It looks like we have our work cut out for us. Captain Rabb, Colonel MacKenzie, why don't you wait for me in my office. I'll be done here shortly.

The two off them stood and came to attention.

"Aye, aye, sir," they replied in unison.

...

Harm and Mac said nothing to each other until they reached the privacy of Admiral Blackmore's office.

"Well, Mac, what do you think?" asked Harm once the door was closed.

"Costa, and Skunzia, they could have been us," she replied.

"How so?"

"How many times have we bent the rules to save each other's butts?"

"Come on, Mac, we've never outright lied to protect each other."

"Sure about that, flyboy," Mac pushed, raising her voice slightly "What about the Day after Dalton was killed? You weren't covering when you pulled me out of the office because I was drunk off my ass? You risked your career as well."

"And I'd do it again. We weren't in a combat situation and no damage was done, well, other than my pride."

"Maybe not, Harm, but we both know it was wrong. Do you really think Admiral Chegwidden would have let it slide?" she asked, in a gentle tone.

"I don't know," Harm answered. "The Admiral has surprised me over the years."

"Well I do," she replied. "I would have kissed my career goodbye, and you know something, Harm? He would have been right."

"Do you think Skunzia is guilty?"

"Krennick certainly will," said Mac.

"That's because she isn't a very nice person, Mac. You are."

Harm walked over to the window and looked out over the airfield. One of the Super Hornet squadrons was conducting night operations, the jet exhaust forming comet tails as the jet fighters took to the air.

"Mac, in all the years we've known each other, have we ever blatantly crossed the line, that is, allowed our relationship to affect our job performance?"

"One could make an argument that we've skirted it a few times. When Vicky McCool asked if we were involved, my answer was, in ways you can't even imagine. Maybe that's why I'm edgy about this case. It hits too close to home."

"Well it could be worse. One of us could have been saddled with Krennick as a partner."

"Is she as bad as you've told me?" she asked.

"Worse. Remember what you told me about Vukovic, you said you could bend him like a pretzel, well, Krennick will eat him for lunch."

The door opened and the couple came to attention as Admiral Blackmore walked in.

"At ease, he said immediately. "Take a seat."

While they took the chairs in front of his desk, the Admiral sat behind his desk.

"Both the SECNAV and General Cresswell want the two of you out on the _Patrick Henry_ by the quickest way possible. And since the Captain was slated to fly out next week for carrier operational tests, I plan to kill two birds with one stone."

The Admiral turned his attention to Mac.

"Colonel MacKenzie, have you ever ejected from an aircraft?"

"Once, sir," she replied. "Harm and I were shot down in a MIG-29 over Russia."

"It's a long story," added Harm.

"I'm beginning to think everything about the two of you is a long story. So tell me, Colonel, how did you like the test flight your husband took you on last month?"

After he had been checked on the F-22, Harm had off handedly mentioned to Mac that he wanted to take her up in the trainer. He expected her to decline, remembering that ill fated flight almost seven years ago. He was more than pleasantly surprised when she said yes. After clearing it with the Admiral, Mac had been allowed to accompany him on a cross country training flight.

"It was great, Admiral, as long as my flyboy husband keeps the acrobatics to a minimum. Why do you ask, sir?"

"Because, Colonel, with the F-22, we can have you and the Captain aboard the _Patrick Henry_ in about six or seven hours, which cuts the travel time in half and right now, time is of the essence. Are you up for it?"

She looked over at her husband and gave him a wry grin before she answered, "Yes, sir, I can handle it. Besides, it's not like we will be flying into combat."

"Don't be too sure about that, Mac," said Harm. "The KPAF has been harassing COD flights out of Seoul. Last week, the Admiral ordered fighter escort to accompany any COD operation flying out of Korea."

"Your husband is right, Colonel," interjected the Admiral. "The situation over there started to go south about three weeks ago. Calling it volatile would be a gross understatement. Last week the President ordered all commands in the Korean peninsula area to assume a DEFCON 3 state of readiness."

"I guess I've been too busy to notice," offered Mac.

"From what your husband has told me, I'm not surprised," said Blackmore. "Well, the two of you better get moving. I want you aboard the _Patrick Henry_ by 18:00 Zulu. That will be all."

Mac and Harm stood and came to attention.

"Aye, aye, sir."


	5. Chasing the Sun Chasing Dreams

**Chapter 4:**

**07:35 ZULU**

**Halsey Field, North Island NAS**

"Halsey Tower, Alpha Flight five-two, at runway two-nine, requesting formation takeoff."

In terse military terms, Captain Rabb requested take-off clearance for both him and his wingman as he taxied his F-22 Raptor up to the line, just short of the runway.

"Alpha Flight five-two, hold for incoming traffic, one mile out."

Harm glanced up in his mirror to catch a glimpse of his new bride, knowing that despite all her Marine Corps discipline and training, she was feeling a bit of trepidation. He smiled as he saw the stylized lettering on her helmet spelling out _Ninja,_ the call sign that he and Keeter had bestowed on her.

"Ready for this, ninja girl," he asked, keying only the intercom so they could speak privately.

"You just concentrate on keeping us in the air, flyboy," she replied, in a good natured voice. "And no aerobatics unless we're dodging a missile."

Harm chuckled for a moment before the radio drew his attention.

"Alpha Flight five-two, fly runway heading, climb and maintain four-thousand feet, clear for formation departure, runway two-nine."

"Climb and maintain four-thousand feet, departing runway two-nine, Alpha Flight five-two rolling."

Harm keyed a second radio used for air to air communications, "Keeter, this is Hammer, we're rolling."

"Right behind you boss," he replied. "Hang on to your britches, Colonel."

"You're a barrel of laughs, Keeter."

Rabb pushed the throttles forward and the sleek fighter sped down the runway. Pulling back gently on the stick, he lifted the aircraft off the deck, raising the landing gear at the same time, reducing the drag which added an additional boost in speed.

"Ah hell," Mac said over the intercom. "I think I left my stomach back there."

"Suck it up, Marine," replied Harm, quickly glancing at her his trademark megawatt smile firmly in place.

"Alpha Flight five-two, come left to two-four-zero, contact SOCAL departure on 317.55."

"Come left to two-four-zero, contact SOCAL departure on 317.55, Alpha Flight five-two."

As the lead plane in the formation, it was Harm's responsibility to conduct all communications with the air traffic controllers. He switched to the new frequency and established contact.

"Your stomach catch up with you yet," he asked, after finishing with the flight controller.

"I think so," she replied, sounding much better than she did a few minutes ago. "This seems smoother than the last time we went up."

"There's less turbulence tonight. That will change once we start chasing the sun."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Once we get up to cruising altitude and out over the ocean, we'll punch up the throttles and go supersonic. We'll be flying at almost twice the speed of sound, faster than the sun."

"So we will be flying into daylight."

"That's right. We'll take on fuel three times along the way. It will be early evening, just about sundown, by the time we land at Atsugi to drop our internal tanks and take on ordnance."

"Are you expecting a fight?"

"I hope not, but I'd rather be ready. We'll be making a night landing on the carrier."

"Good thing you got your eyes fixed, flyboy," she said, pausing for a moment. "Harm, are you comfortable with this…I mean…making a night trap in an aircraft you've never landed on a carrier before?"

"Don't worry, Mac. This plane handles much like a Tomcat on a carrier approach. Besides, I've done night traps on the carrier test field."

"Four hours is still a long flight in a fighter."

"Yep, I hope you used the ladies room before we took off," he said, chuckling over the intercom.

"Harm, you would have to bring _that_ up."

The radio came to life again drawing his attention away.

"Alpha Flight five-two, SOCAL departure, you are leaving my airspace, climb and maintain Angels eighteen, contact Los Angeles Center on civilian frequency of 135.4.

"Climb and maintain Angels eighteen, contact Los Angeles Center on 135.4, Alpha Flight five-two.

Harm switched over from the military communications set to the standard VHF set used by non military aircraft. Mentally he switched gears remembering to use the civilian flight numbers and terminology.

"Los Angeles Center, Navy flight five-two with you, two plane formation, flight level one-eight."

"Roger, Navy five-two, copy 2 aircraft, squawk three-seven-three-eight and three-seven-three-nine and ident."

Harm reached down and activated the civilian style transponder and set the appropriate code. He pressed the IDENT switch which would highlight his aircraft on the controller's radar screen.

"Did you copy that, Keeter?" he asked over their private frequency.

"Copy Hammer, three-seven-three-nine."

Harm switched his headset back to the ATC frequency, "Los Angeles Center, squawk three-seven-three-eight and three-seven-three-nine, Navy five-two."

"Navy five-two, Los Angeles Center, radar contact established, climb and maintain flight level three-five, come right to heading two-five-three."

"Climb and maintain flight level three-five, come right to heading two-five-three, Navy five-two."

As soon as they had reached thirty five thousand feet, Rabb pushed the throttles forward and accelerated through Mach one, eventually settling in at about twelve hundred miles an hour, slightly less than twice the speed of sound.

Once they had crossed over into international airspace, Harm tuned the communications set to the HF frequency used for over the ocean flying. He would not need to communicate with ATC again until the end of the flight, unless he needed to change altitude. This would give him a chance to continue the conversation he and his wife were having before all hell broke loose.

He set the autopilot and looked up to the mirror.

"How are you doing back there, ninja girl?"

"I'm okay, flyboy," she replied, jovially. "I could get used to this."

"So, Mac," he began. "You were about to tell me something before Gunny showed up."

"Oh, yeah. I got a phone call from Dr. Hart, this morning. She just received my medical records from Bethesda."

Harm felt a wave of emotion surge through him, something that always happened when they discussed having a family. After arriving in San Diego, Mac had scheduled an appointment with Dr. Shirley Hart, a civilian OB/GYN who specialized in fertility issues. While Mac had wanted to wait until he joined her, they had decided to get the initial consolation out of the way. This proved to be a good decision, as Dr. Hart needed Sarah's records from her attending physician.

"What did she say, Sarah?" he asked, his voice colored in sentiment.

"Well…when she examined my records, she found that one of my ovaries had not been compromised by my condition. She thinks my chances of conceiving a child are much better than Dr. Purcell had originally told me…with the procedure she has in mind."

"But?" pressed Harm, having picked up on the trepidation in her voice.

"If I am able to carry a child to term, it will most likely be a one shot deal. I'll be on a very strict schedule, starting about half way through my pregnancy, and I'll be on ordered bed rest for most of my third trimester."

"We knew there would be complications, Mac," said Harm. "But you still have plenty of leave time banked and I'm sure your XO can handle things at the office while you are away."

"There's more, Harm. With the condition of my uterus, Dr. Hart is worried about hemorrhaging, especially during labor. She estimates a better than fifty percent chance that she will need to perform an emergency hysterectomy once the baby is born."

"What about delivery by c-section?"

"Dr. Hart mentioned that possibility, but if she has to perform a c-section, she recommends taking everything else…after…after she delivers the baby," said Sarah, the sorrow evident in her voice. "Either way, it means I will only be able to bear one of our children. If we want to have more, we would have to resort to surrogacy."

"Would surrogacy still be an option?"

"As part of the procedure, Dr. Hart would remove about a dozen eggs from my ovary and freeze them. If I don't get pregnant within six months, we would at least have the option of In vitro fertilization."

Sarah suddenly became very quiet and Harm knew she was debating telling him something else. His glance back to the mirror to see her staring out the cockpit was unnecessary.

"What else, Sarah," he coaxed, gently. She looked back at his reflection, a pensive expression on her face. Eyes locked with hers, he waited patiently for her to go on.

"Harm, you need to know, both of these options are very risky. If I start to hemorrhage during labor, and Dr. Hart can't stop the bleeding, I…I…could die in childbirth."

Her words hit him like a sledgehammer. The very thought of losing her, especially after everything they had been through together, left him cold beyond expression. _But carrying a child is so very important to her._

Harm chose his next words very carefully.

"Mac…Sarah…Honey, I know how much this means to you…means to us…and you know how much I would love to see you carrying our child, but, I…I don't want to lose you. I don't think I could live with that. We need to really talk about this…and be sure about what we are willing to risk…to make it happen…"

"I know, Harm, I feel the same way…Dr. Hart's call to be was preliminary; she wants to schedule an appointment with both of us so we can discuss our options," Mac replied. "I was going to see if we could make an appointment this week. I guess that's out of the question, now."

"Yeah, just our luck," he said, some levity returning to his voice. "Mac, did you ever wonder why we didn't get together after the Jagathon?"

"Are you kidding me? I wonder about then, or about after finding your father, or when you went back to flying, last Christmas; if I had a nickel for each time I wondered, we could have paid cash for our home," she replied, exasperation in her voice. "It's funny that you mentioned Jagathon. You know what the real kicker is, Harm?"

"What's that?"

"Dr. Hart said I would have been able to conceive normally had I done so three years ago. There might have been some complications, but…nothing like we are going to face now."

"Sarah, we…we can't second guess the decisions we made in the time we've known each other. Yes…there are…consequences because of it, but…maybe there are reasons as well. Have you considered that?"

Through the mirror, he saw her smile.

"Yeah, I have…and I think I know the answer. If we had got together after the Jagathon, I probably wouldn't have gone to Paraguay with Webb. You wouldn't have left JAG and subsequently never worked for the CIA, never took that crop dusting job and…never met Mattie."

"I hadn't thought about that," he replied.

"Mattie has been good for you, Harm, more than you can know. Don't take this the wrong way, but…taking on the responsibility of being a father, changed you for the better. It gave you seasoning that, quite frankly made you irresistible. Had I not already been involved with Clay…I would have…well…I think you've already figured that out."

"Ninja, Hammer, you two still awake over there?" came Jack's voice over their headsets, cutting into their mood.

"We're fine, Jack," Mac replied. "Thanks for asking. It sounds like someone is lonely over there."

"Story of my life, Colonel," he replied. "Only Hammer is lucky enough to have married such a lovely lady. I hope he knows that."

While Mac and Keeter bantered back and forth, Harm considered just how lucky he truly was. He had a beautiful wife, whom he loved beyond expression, whom returned his affection with equal vigor, a young girl who in every sense of the word was his daughter if not yet in fact. He had been blessed with a great family, and good friends. And then there was Harriet and Bud. Harm fondly recalled the conversation they had at the Robert's home, just before Mac had left for San Diego.

_"Captain, Colonel,"_ Bud had began, still stuck in formal mode despite the depth of their friendship. _When you told us that the two of you were considering surrogacy as a possible way to have a child, Harriet and I discussed the matter and we decided, if you chose to follow that route, Harriet would love to carry your child._

Their offer had reduced Mac to a puddle and Harm had drawn on every ounce of self control to keep from joining her. As it was he could not staunch his own tears. Even thinking about it now, two months later, still made him misty.

Harm made himself a promise, once they returned from this mission, he and Sarah were going to make some decisions about their future family.


	6. Bad Blood

**Chapter 5:**

**12:50 ZULU**

**USS Patrick Henry, 155 Miles east of the North Korean Coast**

Mac had landed on a carrier many times before, either by helicopter, or by carrier onboard delivery which was sometimes known as the Grumman Greyhound, but this would be the very first time she had been tail-hooked in a fighter.

Unlike in a COD where the visibility in the back was nil, flying in the backseat of the F22 allowed her to see everything, including how small the ship really looked.

"I can't believe we are going to land on that postage stamp," she said to Harm as they waited for Keeter to line up for final approach and land."

"Come on, Mac, you've done this a hundred times before."

"I know this, but, I've never actually seen how small the ship looks from up here," she said, with more certainty than she felt.

Once Keeter had landed, Rabb banked the aircraft around to line up with the flight deck, which, to Mac, now looked like a tiny point of light.

"Paddles, this is Bad-man one. Raptor, two-point-five, ball."

"Roger, ball," replied the LSO, this ship's landing signal officer, whose job it was to guide each aircraft down to the deck safely.

Mac knew enough to stay quiet as landing on a carrier at night required intense concentration. She had been told that a naval aviator underwent more stress performing a nighttime landing then when they were engaged in combat operations. Mac also knew that her husband, quite literally, had both of their lives in his hands.

When they had taken off from Atsugi, Harm had taken the time to explain everything that would happen during the approach and landing, including the fact that they would be coming in hot, in the event they missed the wire. Sarah was aware of all this, but because fighters approached at a much higher speed than a COD, she knew he was helping her to be mentally prepared for what was about to happen.

As she listened to the LSO calling out the instructions, she felt her own heart jump into overdrive. The only reason she didn't experience shear panic, was her unshakable trust in her husband's flying ability. _I'll need a shower when this is over,_ she thought.

As they closed within a boat length, Sarah realized just how fast they were moving, but before she could react, she felt the bone jarring jolt of the wheels hitting the deck. Less than half a second later, she was thrown forward against her harness as the aircraft came to a stop.

"You okay, Mac?" he called from the front.

"Yeah, I think so, as soon as my pulse rate returns to normal, that is, I'll be fine."

"You and me, both, ninja girl," he said, letting her know she wasn't alone in that respect. "You should try this in rough seas."

"Only if you're the one doing the flying, sailor."

Harm raised the canopy and the noise of the ongoing flight operations permeated the cockpit. When he had maneuvered the aircraft to its parking spot, and shut down the engines, the plane crew came up the ladders to help them out of the aircraft. Because the plane had live ordinance, as well as ejection seats, these systems needed to be safeguarded before they could disembark.

Harm climbed down first and waited while the ground crew helped his wife egress from the aircraft. Once they were both on the deck, a waiting ensign escorted them to the island superstructure.

...

On the bridge of the super-carrier, Captain Alison Krennick watched with barely concealed hostility as the two lawyers made their way to the island. All her life, she had been used to getting exactly what she wanted, a trait which she continued throughout her Navy career. This was also true of the men in her life, that is, all but one notable exception, the same man she was watching right now.

It was almost ten years ago when Krennick had found herself instantly attracted to the aviator, turned lawyer, then Lt. Commander Harmon Rabb Jr. He was as smart as he was attractive and it wasn't long before Krennick had her sights set on him. She had just taken over as the Deputy JAG soon after Admiral Chegwidden assumed command of the organization, and despite the difference in rank, not to mention the fact she was his superior officer, Alison had made it very clear to Harm that she was interested in more than just a professional relationship.

In Rabb, she had seen a man who would not bend easily to her will, and because of that, he became a challenge she pursued almost to the point of obsession, frequently crossing the line prompting Rabb to issue "red light" warnings. One afternoon, a few weeks before she was abruptly reassigned, Rabb cornered her in her office and told her in no uncertain terms that if she didn't cease and desist, he would have no choice but to file a formal complaint with Admiral Chegwidden. Heated words had followed and there was bad blood between them since.

Krennick's subsequent reassignment had all but convinced her that Rabb had betrayed her by mentioning the altercation to Chegwidden, despite their agreement to keep it confidential and just give each other a wide berth. Whatever she had once felt for him was now turning into pure unadulterated hatred. The fact that Harm had been one of the officers selected to be FJA in Europe, added insult to injury.

"Something on your mind, Alison?" asked Captain Ingles, who had been standing next to her.

Through the past two years, since the _Patrick Henry_ had been reassigned to PACFLT, she had become close friends with the carrier's CO. As the FJA in the Asian theater, she had reviewed more than a few cases involving his command. Ingles was a no nonsense officer she had come to respect and admire. _Too bad he's not single,_ she thought.

"Does it show that much, Toby?" she replied, just loud enough for him to hear.

"I take it you have some history with those two."

"Just one of them, sir," she replied. "I've never met Lt. Colonel MacKenzie."

"Alison, if you think this history with Rabb will affect your performance, tell me now. I can have Cresswell assign it to someone else without any prejudice to your career."

"I would hope you know me better than that, sir," she replied, formally. "What happened between Captain Rabb and I was almost ten years ago. I'd like to think we are both beyond that."

"I hope so, Alison. There are going to be many eyes on these proceedings and to be very blunt, anyone who steps out of line will be on a short track to ending their career."

"I understand, sir," she replied. "I assume Rabb and MacKenzie will be reporting to you, straight away, sir?"

"After they have had a chance to clean up," Ingles replied.

"Isn't it standard procedure for them to report to the CO as soon as they arrive?"

"Have you ever flown in a fighter for over five and a half hours and landed on a carrier at night?"

"No, sir," she answered.

"The night landing alone would draw sweat out of even an experienced aviator. We'll meet with them in the wardroom in an hour. Vukovic should be on board by then. I'll meet with all of you together. By the way, after conferring with Cresswell and the SECNAV, I've decided to assign Rabb and MacKenzie to the same stateroom."

Krennick said nothing, although her expression clearly indicated her surprise. "I take it you don't approve," commented the Captain.

"With all due respect, sir, it's not what I would have done."

"Alison, with all the extra hands on board, we're full up. In fact, some of my officers are hot bunking to make room for the visiting dignitaries. This arrangement will give the defense team a place to work and confer with their clients with some measure of privacy. We're in uncharted waters here, Captain Krennick."

"I just thought, with the subject matter concerning one of the charges…"

"I know you don't think much of Captain Rabb," Ingles interjected. "But you seem to forget that I've served with the man, and I can say with absolute assurance that he would do nothing to discredit the uniform. The same goes for his wife, whom I am also very well acquainted with."

"Of course, sir. My apologies," she offered. "Permission to leave the bridge, sir."

"Granted, carry on."

"Aye, aye, sir."

Frustrated with herself for her lack of self control, Krennick made a hasty departure. _Damn that man,_ she thought, as she made her way down the stairway. _It's been ten years since I've seen him. I should be over this by now._

Alison didn't know whether it was the fact he had turned her down, or, the fact that she had felt betrayed by him, which was causing her to come so unglued. All she knew for sure was she didn't like the thoughts the situation was leaving her with. The fact that he had found someone and she was still alone only added to her animosity.

...

As Harm and Mac were led through the maze of passageways on the way to their assigned quarters, their guide, Ensign Jeffery Benson, chatted away, making small talk with them.

"At first I was confused," said Benson, making another unexpected turn. "When the Captain ordered me to assign you to the same stateroom the Captain must have seen it in my expression. He went on to explain that the two of you are married. That doesn't happen every day, sir, ma'am. I guess we'll be seeing more of that, I mean with women serving in combat roles and all."

"Does serving with women bother you, Ensign?" asked Mac, carefully censoring any accusation out of her voice.

"Oh, no ma'am," the young man replied immediately. "I think it's great. Take Lt. Commander Skunzia for example. She's one of the best fighter pilots on the boat; in fact, she has the best trap record of anyone onboard. I don't care what they accused her of. She would never try to cover for anyone, ma'am."

"It sound like you think pretty highly of her, Ensign," said Rabb.

"I do, sir. Commander Skunzia is good people. Some of the pilots especially the fighter jocks, tend to look down on the rest of us like we're beneath them, but not her. She's one of the most pleasant people I have ever had the pleasure to work with, sir."

"That's good to know. We may call you as a character witness," replied Harm.

Benson suddenly stopped and turned to face them.

"Sir, ma'am, may I speak candidly for a moment."

"Go ahead, Ensign," replied Mac.

"Well, ma'am, sometimes I think the Navy is behind the times with their policy of not allowing couples to serve on the same ship, married or otherwise."

"Why do you say that?" she asked.

"My fiancée, well, we met while we were in OCS. We became best friends and ended up being assigned to the same ship, this one…"

"Is she still on board?" asked Mac, interrupting his story.

"No ma'am. A few months after we were assigned to the _Patrick Henry_ we put into port in Japan and Christina and I went on liberty together. Neither one of us expected anything to happen but we were in the hotel room one night and one thing led to another and we wound up in bed. We finally realized that we loved each other."

"Did you tell anyone," asked Harm.

"No sir," replied Benson. "We decided to keep things to ourselves until we were sure it was going to work. We even went out of our way to avoid each other most of the while we were on duty. Three weeks ago, I asked her to marry me. When she said yes, we knew we had to declare ourselves. She was reassigned to Atsugi to finish her tour, but there were no open billets for me, at least right now. Our detailer is trying to find a posting where we can be together during our next tour of duty."

"How much longer do you have?" asked Mac.

"Three months, ma'am," he replied.

She felt a pang of sorrow for the young man remembering how she felt at the prospect of being separated from Harm.

"These are your quarters, Captain, Colonel."

"Thank you, Ensign, carry on," Rabb said.

"Aye, aye, sir," replied Benson, snapping to attention before leaving.

When they were inside Mac turned to him and said, "I felt sorry for him, Harm."

"Me too," he replied. "I know how he feels." Changing the subject he went on, "Why don't you shower first. I want to meet with Keeter and the CAG to go over a few things."

"All right," she replied. "Don't be too long, you don't want to be late for our meeting with the Captain."

He kissed her briefly before disappearing into the passageway.


	7. Meetings

**Chapter 6:**

**14:00 ZULU**

**Wardroom, USS Patrick Henry, 150 Miles east of the North Korean coast**

To say that the tension in the room could be cut with a knife would have been an understatement. After exchanging brief pleasantries, Captain Ingles took the seat at the head of the table and began the meeting. As the convening authority, Ingles set down expectations as to what he, and the SECNAV expected to accomplish through these proceedings. _This entire situation is nothing but a political exercise,_ Harm thought to himself, as he listened to the Skipper. He glanced over to his wife and exchanged a look and a nod. _She's not buying it either._

Seated directly across the table, Captain Alison Krennick was poker faced, her expression revealing nothing. But Harm could sense that she was coiled like a viper waiting to strike. Beside her, Lt. Gregory Vukovic listened to Ingles with intense interest, oblivious to the tension between his boss and his former colleague.

Once Harm had learned Krennick was the opposing counsel, he had made a point to tell Mac everything he could remember about her brief tenure at JAG, including the heated discussion in the office, and anything he might have said that could be misconstrued or taken out of context. Mac, in turn, had found the situation somewhat amusing, saying something to the effect that it wasn't often that Harm's past came back to haunt him.

Harm did have to admit that despite being a decade older, Krennick was still, physically, a very attractive woman, but any beauty she possessed stopped at the surface. Underneath, laid the heart of the most vindictive, resentful, and controlling individual he had ever been acquainted with. _She makes Loren Singer look like Mother Theresa._ He couldn't help but wonder about the event or events in her past which had damaged her so.

When Ingles finished, Harm jumped in immediately with a question. "Skipper, I can understand the Article 32 proceeding for Lt. Commander Costa; and as problematic as it may be for the defense, the evidence warrants an investigation. But the charges of conspiracy against Lt. Commander Skunzia, isn't that a bit of a stretch, sir?"

"That's a fair question, Harm. When I first approached the SECNAV he suggested, to err on the side of caution, that is, make the charges and leave it to the members decide the outcome. That's why the two of you are here," said Ingles.

"My preliminary investigation has revealed that Lt. Commanders' Costa and Skunzia were together in a Seoul café just prior to returning to the ship," offered Krennick. "It has also been suggested that these two officers were involved in much more than a platonic relationship."

"I assume you have a list of the witness who provided information, Captain," asked Mac.

"That information will be provided in pretrial, Colonel," replied Krennick.

"I would suggest you save the rest of this for the hearing," Ingles interjected. "The task force flag, Admiral Richards will be the presiding officer for these proceedings."

Ingles paused a moment before asking, "Any other questions?"

Captain Ingles rose from his chair when his question was met with silence, "In that case, I'll leave these matters in your capable hands. I want this matter disposed of as quickly and cleanly as possible, Carry on."

The group stood at attention as the Captain turned to depart.

"Ay, aye, sir," they replied in unison.

When Ingles had left, Harm noticed as Krennick's expression changed from one pure as the driven snow, to the same hardnosed look he had become accustomed to while she was at JAG.

"_Lt. Colonel_ MacKenzie, as the official JAG representative, I had assumed that you would be first chair for the defense. Was that assumption in error?" asked Krennick, in a slightly condescending tone of voice. To Harm, it was very clear she was trying to intimidate Mac by pulling rank. _Bad move, Alison._

"No, _Captain_," replied Mac, placing the same amount of irony on Krennick's rank. "For the record, I will be sitting first chair…"

"I only asked because Harm, excuse me, Captain Rabb didn't hesitate to take the lead," Alison interrupted. "I just want to know up front who is calling the shots."

"As I was about to say, _Captain_," replied Mac, carefully holding her temper in check. "I'm only sitting first chair as a matter of record. _Harm,_ and I, have always worked together as co-counsel. Captain Rabb served under the Skipper some years ago and he enjoys a rapport with the man which I do not. Being an aviator, he will have a unique perspective on this case, and I trust him implicitly."

Krennick looked as if she was going to say something else when Harm decided to put an end to this.

"I think it's time we get to work," he said, looking directly at Krennick. "Captain Krennick, please see to it that either Colonel MacKenzie or I are present when you question our clients.

"Of course, Captain," she replied, before turning to Vukovic. "Lieutenant, you're with me."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, briefly nodding to his former colleagues. "Captain, Colonel."

When they were alone, Mac turned to Harm and asked, "Do you remember what I said to you the first time you told me about Krennick?"

"I do," he answered. "You said she couldn't be all that bad."

"Forget I said that," added Mac. "She much worse."

"So, I think we should have a sit down with our clients," said Harm. "Do you want to meet with them together?"

Mac shook her head, "I think we should interview them separately. We can compare notes later. If there are any discrepancies in their stories, I'd like us to hear them before Krennick does."

"Agreed, I'll have Costa join me in here and you can meet with Skunzia in our quarters."

Rabb stood and picked up the phone on the wardroom wall and dialed the number for the bridge. "Yes, this is Captain Rabb," he said, speaking over the growler phone to the OOD. "Would you have Lt. Commander Costa report to me in the wardroom? Thank you."

Rabb hung up the phone and looked over to his wife. "You were right, Mac, this does hit close to home."

...

About ten minutes after Mac had returned to their quarters, Lt. Commander Michael Costa entered the wardroom and came to attention.

"Lt. Commander Michael Costa, reporting as ordered, sir."

"At ease, Commander," said Harm, before shaking hands with his old squadron mate. "Good to see you again, Mike."

"You too, Hammer. It's been a long time since you saved my six."

"Looks like I might have to save it again, Tuna, that is, if you don't mind being seen with a legal weenie. Have a seat."

The two men sat at the table across from each other.

"When they told me it was you who was coming out to defend me, I thought they were joking. All kidding aside, sir, how much trouble am I in?"

"Well Mike, that depends. The biggest problem is going to be explaining the blood alcohol and urine analysis. Care to enlighten me on how that might have happened?

"As God is my witness, sir, I can't explain how this happened."

"Are you sure that you didn't lose count or maybe have one for the road."

"Sir, I haven't had a drink in over fifteen years, since…since before joining the Navy."

...

While Harm was interviewing his old squadron mate, Mac consulted with his wingman.

"Tell me about your relationship with Commander Costa," Mac asked the woman seated across from her.

"We met in Pensacola, ma'am, while we were both still in flight school. We hit it off, became good friends."

"Just friends?" asked Mac, clarifying her statement.

"At the time, ma'am, when we finished flight, I was assigned to the _Coral Sea_ and Mike; a…Commander Costa went to the _Patrick Henry_. We didn't see each other again until I was reassigned here five years ago to replace Lt. Buxton."

Mac continued to jot down notes while she conducted the interview. "Had you kept in touch with the Commander after flight school?"

"We exchanged a few letters when we could. I'll never forget how excited I was when I found out we were going to be stationed together," replied Skunzia.

"Commander, this might seem personal, but I need to ask, were either of you romantically involved with anyone in the time you have known each other?"

"When I met him, Mike had a girlfriend back home. He was with her until about four years ago. As for me, the guy I was seeing when I joined the Navy didn't want to have a long distance relationship so we went our separate ways. I've dated other guys while we were in port but it's hard to build a relationship when you're at sea six months out of the year."

"How would you describe the relationship between you and Commander Costa?" asked Mac.

"Mike has been my very best friend, Colonel. He's always been there when I've needed someone, and believe me; I've had the occasion to need a friendly shoulder to lean on. I don't come from a good family. My father was nothing but a drunk who could never hold a job and my mother was a control freak who did nothing but berate him any chance she could."

"Have you ever had a problem with alcohol, Commander?" asked Mac.

"No, ma'am," replied Skunzia. "I don't drink, never have. Neither does Mike."

...

Back in the wardroom, Harm was well into his consultation with Costa. "Mike, tell me about your relationship with Commander Skunzia. Is there any truth to the rumor that the two of you are romantically involved?"

"If you had asked me that question a week ago, Captain, I would have said no. That changed the night we landed in Seoul."

"Go on."

"Katherine and I formed an almost instant friendship back in flight school. And although I was involved with someone else at the time, it didn't stop us from becoming close. There were times I talked with Katie about things I hadn't even told my girl back home."

"What happened after flight school?"

"We were sent to different ships. We did keep in touch through letters and emails and such. After you left to go back to JAG, Katie was assigned here to replace X-Man. We've become very close over the years. When I received a _Dear John_ letter from home, it was Katherine who helped me keep my wits about myself."

"You said that something changed while you were in Seoul, care to elaborate?"

"Captain, have you ever met someone whom you shared an instant connection with? Someone you could share your deepest darkest secrets with? Have you ever woke up one morning and looked back at all of your relationships and realized that the one person, for whom your heart beats, has been standing next to you all along?"

Harm was silent. What his former colleague had just put to words resonated strongly as Harm contemplated his feelings towards his wife.

"We were standing in front of the hotel when I turned to look at her and I don't know what had happened or how. I just knew I was in love with her," said Costa.

"I take it she feels the same way?"

"Yes, sir," he replied. "The two days we spent in Seoul were, well, sorry; I just don't have the words. Now, because of this, Katie is facing court martial as well."

"Don't give up just yet," said Rabb. "Falling in love isn't a crime."

"I hope you can convince the members of that, sir."

Rabb didn't know how to respond to that, but, for him, this trial just became personal.

...

Later, alone in their quarters, Harm and Mac compared the notes they had taken from their consolation with their clients. Tired from the long flight and the lengthily interviews, they had stripped down to shorts and tee shirts, planning on getting some much needed sack time.

"From what I can see, Harm, Krennick's case is based solely on circumstantial evidence."

"Except for the lab tests, without those, the prosecution doesn't have a case."

"Maybe the lab screwed up," she suggested. "Did they double check the results?"

"Yeah, I checked in with sickbay after I finished with Costa. Both test results show the same thing."

"Harm, you know this man, at least, you flew with him for a time. Is he the type of person who would just throw his career away?"

"That was five years ago, Mac. People can change."

"What does your gut tell you?" she asked.

"That he's innocent. There is something else that is bothering me."

Mac tilted her head indicating for him to continue.

"His BAC was .06, which was almost four hours after they had departed from Seoul. It seems to me that he would have to have been legally drunk when he set foot on the COD and even two hours later, he wouldn't have been able to fly in close formation. Hell, Mac, I don't think he could have gotten off the deck in that condition. We're missing something here."

"Could they have mixed up the blood and urine samples with someone else?"

"I suppose it's possible, the question is, how do we prove it."

"Burden of prove is on the prosecution, Harm."

"Only if we can discredit this evidence somehow," he replied. "Hey, let's get some sleep. It will be dawn soon."

They stood up and pointed at each other saying, almost in unison, "Top bunk."

Rabb turned around to the desk and found the change he had removed from his pockets earlier and produced a coin.

"Call it," he said, flipping the coin into the air and slapping it onto the back of his hand.

"Tails," she replied, like she always did. _One of these days I'll guess right,_ she thought to herself when he revealed the coin. She kissed him briefly before climbing into the bottom bunk.

"Love you, Sarah."

"Love you too, Harm," she replied before drifting off to sleep.


	8. Considerations

**A/N:** I was not at all a fan of Lt. Vukovic. Most of the time, he struck me as a snot-nosed know it all who had no idea on how to treat a lady, or how to behave as an officer and a gentleman. But I do admit being impressed at the way his character handled the assignment in the last episode, _Fair Winds and Following Seas._ Harm saw potential in the man and I think Mac's dressing him down just might have knocked him back enough for him to take a good look at himself. This version of Greg Vukovic is what I see if he truly took Mac's words to heart.

* * *

**Chapter 7:**

**23:30 ZULU**

**USS Patrick Henry, Sea of Japan, 130miles east of the Korean DMZ**

With the expected arrival of representatives from the North Korean armed forces, Captain Ingles had been ordered to stand down flight operations at 21:00Z per Admiral Richards. Flight operations on her two sister ships, the _USS Enterprise,_ and the _USS George Washington,_ continued, however the missions consisted of only combat air patrol over the task force. National Command Authority had decided to scale back anything that might be considered provocative by the other side. Repositioning the fleet had been part of that decision.

Standing on the open gangway just abaft of the bridge, Harm watched over the now quiet flight deck of the super carrier.

"Kind of eerie isn't it?" asked the CAG, as he stepped down from the bridge. "All quiet just waiting for visitors from the other side?"

"I'll say," replied Rabb. "I'm not sure what's worse, CAG, the quiet, or the fact that we've invited potential adversaries on board. What do you think about all this?"

"I suspect my opinion is the same as yours. We should have done this trial thing ashore," replied the CAG. "I don't like the idea of having anyone onboard who isn't cleared, not even the press. I've ordered additional security around your birds. No one gets near them without yours or Commander Keeter's approval."

"I appreciate that, CAG."

"So Captain, I suppose you wanted to discuss your clients with me?"

Rabb nodded, "I'd just like to verify some background information, if you can spare the time."

"I can now," said Carlson. "Krennick tried to corner me a few hours ago, while I was in the middle of shutting down flight operations. She's a bulldog, doesn't like to take no for an answer. I don't think she cares much for you either."

"She told you that?"

"Not in so many words, but when I mentioned that I would be speaking to you this morning she gave a look that would freeze water. The two of you have a past or something?"

"I'm not holding a grudge. Ten years ago, she was interested, I wasn't. End of story."

"Well, you know what they say about a woman scorned. Anyway, what do you want to know?"

"I read your fit rep on Lt. Commander Skunzia. Top marks across the board. Trap records better than anyone else on the boat. Her record is nothing short of exemplary."

"She's my best aviator, Captain. And everyone onboard knows it. As far as I'm concerned she's being railroaded by some bureaucrat in Washington."

"Lt. Commander Costa seems to agree with you, CAG."

"Costa's a good pilot too, Harm. But I don't have to tell you that. You flew with him. I just wish they had both come to me sooner, not after the fact."

"I'm assuming you're referring to their relationship."

"What else? Ah hell, Captain. Everyone on the goddamn ship knew they were involved. If they had come to me and declared themselves openly, I could have assigned one of them to another squadron. They could have stayed on the ship together and we wouldn't be dealing with this problem now."

Harm considered the history he and Mac shared over their nine years together at JAG and how their colleagues knew how he and Mac felt about each other, even before they did. _Hell, even obnoxious Mic Brumby knew._ Harm thought. _I should have listened then._

"Did you consider that everyone might have known except for them?" asked Harm.

"I'm not following you."

"Mac…err…Colonel MacKenzie and I interviewed them separately last night. Apparently they only realized their feelings while they were on liberty together," commented Rabb. "They planned to discuss the situation with you once they came aboard, but it seems like events precluded them doing so."

Bob Carlson looked out over the flight deck seeming to reconstruct the events in his mind. His expression was wistful.

"They didn't get the chance, did they, CAG?"

"You're right, Captain. We were already at Condition One when the COD from Seoul landed. Costa, Skunzia, and the rest of their crew were ordered to grab their flight gear and report to the briefing room as soon as they were aboard. We had been on alert for most of the day and several of my men were up against their flight limits."

"So they did they try to speak to you when they came aboard."

"Yeah, they did. It was busy and I pushed them off 'til later. You know how crazy it gets on a carrier during war alert flight ops. That decision might have just scuttled their career, and mine."

While they were talking, the COD they were expecting from the mainland, flew into view. It overflew the carrier and circled around to enter the pattern.

"I wouldn't give up hope just yet, CAG. Under the circumstances, your actions are understandable, a point I'll be sure to convey to the members when you take the stand."

Before the CAG could respond, the hatch nearby opened and Lt. Vukovic approached the pair. He came to attention and saluted.

"I'll talk with you after, Captain," said the CAG, returning the Lieutenant's salute and exchanging one with Rabb. Harm faced his junior colleague. "What can I do for you, Lieutenant?"

"Captain Krennick sent me to find you, sir. She wants to meet with you, Colonel MacKenzie, and your clients after the North Koreans come aboard."

"That's fine," he said, checking his watch. "Tell her we'll meet in the wardroom at 02:00."

"Aye, aye, sir," said Vukovic. When he didn't depart straight away Rabb inquired, "Something else, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir," Vukovic, said. "I never had a chance to wish you or Colonel MacKenzie congratulations, both on your engagement and your marriage."

"Well, thank you, Greg. I'll be sure to pass it along to Mac," said Harm. "Is that all?" he asked, sensing that the man had not yet finished.

"Permission to speak off the record, sir?"

"Granted."

"It's about Captain Krennick, sir."

Harm felt himself doing a double take, "Lieutenant you're not thinking of getting involved…"

"Oh, no sir, nothing like that," clarified the young man. Harm realized he must have been telegraphing his thoughts. "I've never cared much for cold climates, sir. It's just that…"

"Just what, Greg?"

"Several months ago, right after I was assigned to JAG HQ, I did something that really, begging your pardon, sir, really pissed off Colonel MacKenzie."

"I know, she told me about it. Making an enemy out of the Chief of Staff wasn't a very smart thing to do, Lieutenant."

"Yes sir, I realized that when she slammed the door in my face when I asked to accompany her to San Diego."

"Mac doesn't usually hold a grudge, but she does expect a certain level of professionalism from the people under her. I do have to hand it to you; you're a brave man. Calling her own past into question in order to win her favor was an interesting tactic, not very effective, but interesting."

"She threatened to charge me with disrespecting a senior officer, sir."

"You're damn lucky she didn't drag you outside and beat the tar out of you."

"You're joking, right, sir?"

Harm just gave him an unreadable look. He fondly remembered the time when he and Mac were aboard the _USS Watertown_. A few of the enlisted men started the trash compactor starling Mac from a sound sleep. As long as he lived he would never forget her response. _If I find out that the three of you aren't showing me the respect worthy of an officer, I will push you out the forward escape trunk and feed your ass to the crabs!_ He had been watching from the top rack and when she turned to look at him, her look would have flattened a squad of marines.

"Captain, the things your wife said to me, well, I've had some time to think things over. She was right, sir."

"Are you asking about an apology, Lieutenant?" asked Harm.

"Would she accept one, Captain?"

"She might, if it's heartfelt and sincere, but I wouldn't follow it up with a transfer request just yet. What does all of this have to do with Krennick?"

"Well, sir. Captain Krennick told me, in no uncertain terms, that she plans on winning this case, by any means necessary."

"Is she planning on doing anything illegal, or unethical?"

"She didn't say anything specific, sir."

"Lieutenant, let's give her the benefit of the doubt and assume she is just planning to be an aggressive litigator, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"In either case you shouldn't really be discussing this with me. If you ever suspect your co-counsel is guilty of any misconduct, it is your duty to bring it to the attention of the presiding officer, in this case, Admiral Richards."

"Yes, sir, I think I understand."

"Greg, being an attorney means that you sometimes have to push the envelope in either in the defense of your client, or as the trial counsel who is prosecuting a case. We all skirt the line at times. But if you keep your moral compass set to search for the truth, you'll never go wrong."

"That's good advice, sir. Thank you for your time."

The two men exchanged salutes and Harm watched him descend the gangway. The COD carrying the North Korean dignitaries was just touching down on the deck. Harm watched the COD being cleared from the arresting wire and taxiing to the designate parking spot. Two KPAF officers and a three star General disembarked from the aircraft. Harm knew he needed to meet with Mac before they greeted General Kim, who was the officer in charge of their military justice system. He took one last look at the flight deck before making his way to the wardroom.

...

"So you didn't conduct these tests yourself?" Mac asked the ship's ranking medical officer.

"No ma'am," replied the ship's surgeon, Lt. Commander Dixon. His southern drawl permeated the compartment. "I usually have one of my corpsman perform the tests; they're pretty straight forward, and all."

"Doctor Dixon, is there a place where we can speak in private?"

"Why certainly, ma'am," he replied jovially. "Right this way. I just need to check on Lt. Gingell."

Before they walked into the office, Dixon looked at the aviator's chart. Dropping his accent and demeanor he spoke with the crisp and concise diction of an Ivy League graduate. "Chief, push two thousand milligrams of penicillin, IV stat. And I want his vitals checked every thirty minutes until further notice."

"Aye, aye, sir."

When they were seated in his office Mac questioned him about the change in mannerisms. "So this southern gentleman thing, is it just an act?"

"Oh, no ma'am. I'm very proud of my Dixie heritage," he said, with the charm turned up for all he was worth. "But when it comes to the welfare of my patients; it's a responsibility I take very seriously, Colonel," he finished in the concise diction she heard when Dixon had addressed the Chief.

"I see," said Mac, pausing for a moment. "Is Lt. Gingell going to make it?"

"Lt. Gingell suffered a blow to the head when he collided with the canopy during the ejection processes. Truth be told, it's a miracle he is alive. He is in a coma and may never wake up."

"From what Lt, Skunzia tells me, Lt. Gingell may be the only one who is able to collaborate her story."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Colonel," Dixon replied "Why can't you just administer a polygraph to Lt. Costa?"

"Under the UCMJ, it would be considered inadmissible evidence. If only the blood work and urine tests weren't so conclusive…" Mac paused mid-sentence considering something. "Do you still have the original samples?"

"Of course, Colonel," replied Dixon. "They are considered evidence as you well know. Where are you going with this, ma'am?"

"I'm not sure yet. What kinds of addition tests can you run aboard ship?"

"If you are looking for a DNA analysis, forget it, Colonel. I don't have the equipment needed. The stuff we can do is blood typing, drug testing, hormone type and levels, pregnancy tests…"

"Did you type and cross match the blood sample?"

"Yes ma'am, he was unconscious when he was brought onboard so blood typing would be a standard procedure, but the same sample was also used for the toxicology."

"Is there any chance that the samples were mixed up, somehow?"

"I don't see how that is possible. The samples are labeled as soon as they are taken, ma'am."

"Who assisted you with the blood work and tagging the samples?"

"Petty Officer Park, ma'am."

"Would it be possible to run additional tests on the remaining samples?"

"Of course, Colonel, it will take a few days for some of the results. Which tests do you want to run?" asked Dixon.

"All of them, Doctor," said Mac. "Would it be possible for you to run the tests yourself?"

"I suppose I could, if you think it's important an' all." The physician cocked his head in question. "What exactly are you looking for, Colonel?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I'll know it when I see it."


	9. Complications

**Chapter 8:**

**04:00 ZULU**

In the stateroom he shared with his wife, Harm reviewed the case notes, he and Mac had managed to compile so far. _This case shouldn't even be going to trial,_ he thought.

Although cordial, the initial meeting with the North Korean delegation was every bit as tense as Harm expected. The introductions were awkward as General Kim his aid Lt. Colonel Yuan, neglected to divulge their given names.

General Kim was social enough, even jovial at times, but Harm sensed a small measure of hostile undercurrents in everything the man said.

_"In our country, Captain Rabb, this matter would already have been expedited," _the General had said, clearly baiting him. _"Placing the burden of proof on the defense certainly lends to expediency, wouldn't you agree?"_

_"With all due respect, General Kim, expediency and justice can sometimes be mutually exclusive. I have always believed justice is paramount above all other concerns."_

_"That is your opinion, of course, Captain. I prefer how do you Americans phrase it, tying things up in a nice neat little package?"_

_"Captain Rabb,_ said Krennick, imposing herself into the conversation. _"I'm quite sure the General is interested in justice, like we all are."_

_"Of course,"_ replied Harm, deciding that this battle wasn't worth fighting.

Harm knew he shouldn't have been surprised at her play on diplomacy; after all, it was her job to prove his clients were guilty. What bothered him is she seemed to be enjoying it.

Harm considered the General's aid, Lt. Colonel Yuan, who had barely said more than two words to anyone. Stuck to the General like glue, the man seemed to be listening to and watching everyone in the room. Even the announcements on the ship's 1MC didn't pass him unnoticed. _Intel agent for sure,_ thought Rabb, _Clayton Webb's North Korean counterpart._ He had mentioned his suspicions to Mac and she nodded in concurrence.

The KPAF pilot who had survived the encounter, Lt. Lee Sung, spoke to no one, except in greeting. When Harm had shaken the Lieutenant's hand he noticed his eyes dart to the wings on his uniform. Lt. Lee's eyes darkened in what could only be concealed rage. _The face of the enemy,_ thought Harm.

As frosty as the meeting with the North Koreans had been, the pretrial conference had bordered on arctic frigidity. Krennick had offered a deal which, in Harm's eyes was no deal at all. It was Mac who voiced the disdain for both of them when she asked, _"Is this a serious offer, Captain, or is this just a joke? We can do better than this with a guilty verdict."_ Seeing the expression on Alison's face when Mac twisted her tail gave him a small measure of satisfaction. _"Sorry, Colonel, this is the best we can do, considering the circumstances,"_ was Krennick's snide reply to which Mac responded, _"Very well, Captain, we'll see you in court."_ She slipped the paperwork into her briefcase and stood to leave.

After the brief meeting, Mac told him about her conversation with Lt. Commander Dixon, as well as the prognosis for Lt. Gingell. _"According to Lt. Commander Skunzia, Lt. Gingell saw the entire engagement. If he regained consciousness, even for a few minutes, he could at least tell us who fired first."_

_"What did he say about the tests?"_

_"Commander Dixon is adamant about the samples not being mixed up at the time of extraction."_

_"We could ask the court for a continuance,_ suggested Harm. _"It would give us enough time to send the samples back to the mainland for a DNA analysis."_

_"Krennick will argue such a move would suggest misconduct amongst the medical staff, for which we have no evidence to support,"_ offered Mac.

_"Yeah, you're right. Admiral Richards will avoid doing anything that makes this look like a cover up. Something stinks about this, Mac. You can't just climb into an F18 after you've put down a few drinks and expect to be able to fly with any expectation of precision. I watched the video of Tuna's landing attempt. He crashed because he had stabilizer damage, not because he was impaired."_

_"Which brings us back to the blood tests, Harm, if the medical evidence stands, Commander Costa's career is pretty much over."_

_"Let's hope that Doctor Dixon is able to turn something up."_

The ringing of the phone brought him back to the present. He reached across the desk and picked up the receiver.

"Captain Rabb."

"Petty Officer James, sir, I have a phone patch for you from the states. The young lady on the line identified herself as your daughter."

"Patch it down here, please, Petty Officer."

Unlike the secure satellite circuits, phone calls patched through the HF network were subject to fading, static, and interference. But even through the noise, Harm was able to immediately sense the distress in her voice."

"Mattie, what's wrong?"

"Dad, I'm sorry to have to call you, but, it's…it's about my father."

In an instant his mind drifted back to when Mattie had been hospitalized, Harm had spent almost every free moment at her bedside, while her biological father, Tom Johnson, had fallen back into the bottle. When Mattie regained consciousness, the day before General Cresswell had dropped the reassignment bombshell, Harm had to explain why her real father wasn't there. It had been difficult for both of them. It was Mac, who had been able to help Mattie put things in perspective concerning her father. Thanks to Sarah's intervention, Mattie chose not to alienate her real father this time around. Mattie started calling him Dad, soon after he and Mac became engaged.

"What happened?" he asked, refocusing on the present.

"I got a call from the rehab facility where he was being treated, this morning. He hasn't shown up for any outpatient treatment in over a week."

"Have you tried calling him at the house?"

"Yes, the phone has been disconnected. I called the local police department and asked them to drive by and see if he is all right. They called us back about ten minutes ago. Nobody is home and the electricity has been shut off…I'm…I'm…scared…Dad…I just don't want anything to happen to him."

"Mattie, I don't know if I'm going to be able to break away…"

"No, Dad, you and Mac have responsibilities. Granma and Grampa are going to fly back east with me to take care of things, I just wanted you to know what was going on."

While Harm was on the phone, Mac entered their shared cabin. He looked up to her and mouthed, "Its Mattie." Mac sat across from him and reached to grab his free hand. He knew the concern on her face only mirrored his own.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Just be there for me when I need to talk, even if it's only for a few minutes."

"If Mac or I aren't here, leave a message with the communications officer or send us an email. I'll call you back when I can."

"Is Mac with you?"

"She just walked in, would you like to speak with her?"

"Please."

Harm handed the phone to his wife. While she conversed with her soon to be adopted daughter, Harm considered the relationship between the two most important women in his life. Mac and Mattie had not really had a chance to get to know each other all that well while she had been involved with Clayton Webb. And by the time, Webb was out of the picture, Mattie had returned to Blacksburg to reconcile with her father. It was Mac who reached out to the young woman the day she returned home. Despite the distance between them, they had developed a rapport in a relatively short period of time.

Once Mattie had regained consciousness after the plane crash, she had been very upset to find out Harm refused to accept Mac's help and comfort. Mac had taken way too much pleasure voicing Mattie's opinion on the subject. _"Mac, why do smart guys make such dumb decisions?"_ As much as it stung, Harm, was forced to admit that the young girl was right. His reasons for pushing Mac away were, insensitive at best and borderline insanity at worst.

Right now, Mattie was in the middle of redefining her relationship with Mac, from that of an older sibling, to more of the role of a surrogate mother. It was a slow and somewhat awkward transition for both of them, but Harm had been within earshot the first time Mattie had called Mac, _Mom._ The moment had brought all of them to tears.

"I love you too, sweetheart, bye," Mac was saying, just before she hung up the phone. "Are you okay, Harm?"

Rabb didn't know how to answer. Here he was, almost half a world away while his daughter needs him.

"I don't know, Mac," he replied, frustration evident in his voice. "I should be there for her. Not out here, off the coast of this God forsaken country that…"

He stopped when he realized that he was raising his voice.

"Sorry," he offered, weakly.

Mac seemed unperturbed. She stood from her chair and came around to his side, sliding onto his lap. She drew him into her bosom, resting her own head atop of his.

"Just remember, you're not alone, flyboy."

...

The trial was set to begin the next morning and while Mac, pulled together everything she would need for her opening argument, Harm found himself immersed in the demands of night carrier quals. As the F-22A/N was a brand new aircraft, no one, not even Jack Keeter had completed the official Navy flight requirements for carrier qualifications. CNAF had signed a special waiver allowing the two aviators to ferry the aircraft out to the _Patrick Henry._

As a Tomcat pilot, Harm had been used to flying a larger aircraft, but he soon fell in love with the crisp response and handling of the new plane. He had just completed his third trap of the evening when Keeter's voice came over the private radio channel.

"It looks like we have an audience, Harm. Take a look at the bridge gangway."

To Harm's surprise, he spotted the three North Korean guests looking down watching the flight operations.

"How do you think that happened, Jack," replied Harm. "CAG must be spitting tacks!"

"I'll lay odds one of them is a spook, probably the General's aide."

"That would be my guess, Jack."

While he was talking with Keeter, Harm followed the instruction from the plane hander as he lined up on one of the catapults.

"Where's your RIO tonight?"

"If you mean Mac, she's preparing our opening arguments for tomorrow's trial. I don't think she'd want to ride along anyway, although she did show some interest in learning about the RIO's duties."

"I can show her some of the basics and let her play with the simulator. You never know when it might come in handy. Who knows, Hammer, she might take your job one of these days."

The aircraft director gave Harm the signal that his plane was attached to the shuttle. Behind him, the thrust shield was raised and Harm throttled up his engines. Moving the flight controls, he verified all was well with the aircraft. Giving the thumbs up to the deck crew, he waited for the shooter to touch the deck signaling the cat operator to launch the aircraft. Two seconds later, he was moving in excess of 150 knots and he drew back on the stick gaining altitude.

The F-22A/N was similar to the F-18/A in the respect that the pilot was required to keep his hands off the controls until the aircraft had left the deck. As an F-14 pilot, this aspect had taken some getting used to when Harm qualified on the Hornet a year ago. By 22:30 local time, both Keeter and Rabb had finished their carrier quals and were now officially the only two naval aviators fully certified on the new aircraft. To his surprise, Mac was waiting for him on the flight deck when he climbed out of the aircraft.

"Did you have fun, flyboy?" she asked, as they walked towards the superstructure.

"Probably more that you did," he replied, although he knew his voice had betrayed him.

They quickly made their way to the hatch leading into the ship. Once inside they could speak in softer voices.

"Worried about Mattie?"

"Yeah, Mac, I am."

"I am too, Harm, but I also know she's in good hands."

They walked the rest of the way to their quarters in silence. After a quick shower, they kissed each other good night before climbing into their respective racks.

"You know something, Harm?"

"What's that, Mac?"

"I miss our bed."

"Me too."


	10. Dreams and Realizations

**A/N: **This is a long chapter. Harm and Mac have been through quite a bit in a very short period of time and they are still dealing with issues from the past.

* * *

**Chapter 9:**

_Slowly she opens her eyes, and looks around trying to get her bearings while fighting off the disorientation which threatens to overwhelm her. Moving at all proves to be difficult and she finds that her body is sore all over. Very slowly, she forces herself to sit up and take in her surroundings._

_The room is dark and drab furnished only with the beat up love seat which she found herself lying on just a few moments ago. There are several windows, all covered with a patterned type of screening which at least allowed air to flow inside. She knows she has seen this room before. Looking down at her tattered and dirty clothing, she remembers the mission and being in the vehicle when the grenade underneath it exploded. She reaches to her extended midsection expecting to feel the cushion of the getup the CIA used to make her look pregnant. She is shocked to feel herself touching her own flesh._

_Before she has a chance to consider this, a Middle Eastern man unlocks the door and steps into the room. She finds herself instantly on her feet and shakes her head in disbelief as her more of her memories begin to materialize._

_His hair is dark, including the full beard and mustache and when he speaks to her it is in Arabic._

_"You know that I do not speak Arabic, Sadik."_

_"Hello Sarah," he says, switching to Farsi using the same conceited tone she remembers._

_"How can you be here," she says in English. "I shot you, twice. You're supposed to be dead."_

_"So you thought, Sarah," said Fahd, continuing in English. "Life is transitory, wouldn't you say?"_

_Sarah MacKenzie feels another spell of vertigo pass over her and she sits back down on the love seat._

_"What do you want from me?" she asks, now unsure of the events which had led her here._

_"What I wanted last time. I will ask the questions. You will answer them. If I do not get the answers I want, someone you are very deeply in love with will suffer a very slow and painful death."_

_Paraguay, she thinks to herself. I must still be in Paraguay on the mission with Webb. I must have been drugged and he's playing with me. These other memories I recall have to be an illusion. But how did I…_

_She reaches for her belly once more to be sure._

_How did I get pregnant, she wonders._

_Sadik turns to the guard at the door and orders, "Bring him!"_

_Mac expects to see a captive Clayton Webb being brought in. When she sees who Fahd's men drag into the room, she swallows a lump in her throat as a vice tightens around her heart. They fling the tall dark haired aviator into the middle of the room like a piece of refuse._

_"Harm!" she cries, running to his side. She kneels next to him and quickly checks for injures. His face is bruised and bloodied from the beating he has received, but he is still conscious and somewhat alert._

_"I will allow you a few moments together and then I will come for him. If you tell me what I want to know, you both will live, if not, he will die slowly, and you Sarah, you and your unborn child will join him shortly thereafter."_

_Fahd and his men retreat from the room, leaving Harm and Mac alone._

_"Harm, are you all right? Where are you hurt?"_

_"Sarah," he begins, his words forming a desperate plea. "No matter what happens to me, don't tell them anything. You can't! There is too much at stake."_

_She helps him get to a sitting position while she checks him for injuries._

_"Tell them what, Harm. What does he want from us?" she asks, still trying to remember the events leading to their capture. "I don't even remember how we got here. The last thing I can recall is being on the Patrick Henry."_

_She is still trying to get him to answer her when Fahd and his men return. Roughly, with no regard for his injuries, they pull Harm to his feet._

_"I love you, Sarah," he says, just before they yank him away. "I always have."_

_The two men drag him out the door towards a small shack down the hill._

_"Now, Sarah, you will tell me the arming codes. I will ask you this only once."_

_She shakes her head, not in refusal, but in ignorance, "I have no idea what you are talking about. Arming codes for what?"_

_"You aircraft carried two nuclear tipped missiles, Sarah. I want the arming codes for those weapons."_

_"Even if I knew what you are talking about, I wouldn't be able to help you, Sadik. The launch and arming codes for nuclear weapons are only transmitted just prior to deployment, and then, only by Presidential order. Neither one of us would have them."_

_"That is most unfortunate, for you, and your husband." He turns to the men behind him. "Bind her."_

_The men quickly move to either side and pull her to her feet. They force her to a post in the middle of the room and pull her arms around behind her, securing her wrists with a rough twine which threatens to cut into her skin if she struggles. Fahd picks up a hand held two way radio and keys the transmitter, "You may proceed, Mahmud," he says, while walking out the door._

_A few seconds later she hears a bone chilling scream of agony which she recognizes as Harm's voice. Involuntarily, she screams his name at the top of her lungs._

_"HARM!"_

...

"HARM!"

Sarah feels herself being jostled around and when she opens her eyes she sees her husband leaning over her bunk. His eyes are filled with concern as he calls her name, "Mac…Mac…Sarah, wake up, Honey."

Caught somewhere between the realm of dream and reality, she throws her arms around him and clings on as if her very life depends on it. She feels her heart beating so hard that she expects it to burst forth from her chest. It is only the soothing sound of his voice and being held firmly in his arms which bring her fully into the here and now.

"It's okay, Sarah, you're safe, it's just a nightmare." he keeps repeating to her until she relaxes her death grip embrace.

A loud knocking on the hatch breaks into her consciousness.

"Captain Rabb, Colonel Mackenzie, it's the Master at Arms. Open the hatch, please."

She releases her grip on him and says in a labored breath, "Get the door, Harm."

Harm stands and moves to the hatch. When he opens the door a Master Chief quickly steps into the room, his sidearm drawn. Outside, she can see two more members of his security detail. When it is clear that no immediate threat exists, the Chief raises the muzzle of his pistol to a safe direction.

"Colonel," he begins. "We heard you scream out. Are you all right?" He is questioning her, but she notices his eyes are still on her husband.

"I'm okay, Master Chief, it was just a bad dream," she replies quickly.

The Master Chief relaxes noticeably while he holsters his sidearm. "It must have been some dream, ma'am. I heard you in my office at the end of this passageway." He turns his attention to Rabb. "Sorry to have to bust in on you like this, sir."

"It's not a problem, Master Chief," replies Harm. "Thanks for checking on us."

"You're welcome, sir. Permission to carry on?"

"Granted, Master Chief, goodnight."

"Goodnight, sir. Goodnight, ma'am."

Once they are alone, she climbs out of her rack and seeks the comfort of her husband's arms. She stays there with him, just standing in the middle of the room holding on to him and taking in his affection. For a while, she says nothing, and neither does he; their only communications being the gentle caressing they are sharing.

Her internal sense of timing tells her that fifteen minutes have transpired and she gently pulls away just enough to look up into his eyes.

"Hey, ninja girl, are you okay now?"

"A little better," she replies, although she knows her voice is betraying her. With the feelings the dream left her with she wonders if she will ever be okay.

"You want to tell me about it?" he asks.

"Only if you share my rack," she replies, barely above a whisper.

"It's going to be a little crowded, Mac. Are you sure?"

"I don't want to be alone right now, Harm."

He nods and slides into the lower bunk so that his back is against the bulkhead barely leaving enough room for her to join him. She slides under the blanket with him, nestling against him like a spoon. When he reaches around to hold her, she grabs his hand and draws it to her lips before holding it between her breasts.

"I was in Paraguay, Harm," she begins. "I had just regained consciousness after the explosion disabled our vehicle."

Behind her, Harm was silent, and she was grateful to be able to share at her own pace. She knows he is still paying attention by his caresses and his placement of kisses to the crown of her head. She continues telling him how the events of her dream so closely matched her ordeal until the point where she reached for her belly.

"In my dream, Harm, I was really pregnant," she says, pausing enough for him to respond.

"We talked about children on the flight out here, Sarah. Maybe that's why this is coming out in your dreams."

"Don't you want to know who the father was?" she asks, turning to look at him.

"I'm almost afraid to ask," he says, very subdued. The tone of his voice told her he was being honest.

She squeezes his hand as she replies, "At first, I didn't know either, I didn't think for a minute the baby was Clay's, I really wasn't sure."

"Go on," he prods, ever so gently.

"When Sadik came into the room, I started to remember everything which had happened after. Shooting him dead, breaking up with Clay, my endometriosis, the two of us reconciling at Christmas, our wedding, all of it. But even in my dream, Sadik was just as sick as he was in real life. I began to question what I thought was reality. It wasn't until his men dragged you into the room that I realized that I had been right. We were married and the baby was yours, ours."

"I was in your dream?"

She only nods, desperately fighting to hold back the tears.

"Mac, I…"

"Please, Harm, just let me get through this, okay," she pleads.

"I'm listening."

Mentally she steels herself, determined to finish what she had started.

"Sadik and his men were looking for weapons codes. They intended to torture you to death in an effort to force the information from us. When they dragged you away, Fahd told me he was going to kill you if I didn't tell him what he wanted to know. The last thing I remember, before waking up screaming you name, was hearing you cry out in agony…"

Emotion overwhelms her and she gives in, her body quakes as the uncontrollable sobs burst forth.

"Let it out, Sarah. Let it all out," says her husband, as he continues to stroke her hair. "It was all just a bad dream..."

She turns around so she can face him, placing a finger against his lips. When she has sufficiently recovered, she presses on.

"It's more than just a dream, Harm," she says to him. "It's guilt, forcing its way to the surface…"

"Guilt? Mac, what in the world do you have to feel guilty about?"

"Harm, just listen," she says, an uneasy edge in her voice. "Just let me get this out, okay."

Harm nods his head for her to go on.

"When Sadik and his men strapped me to that table, I had resigned myself to the fact that I wasn't going to walk out of that room alive. I can't even put what I was feeling into words. Yeah, I was worried about what would happen to Clay after they killed me, but the one thought which kept running through my mind was, I would never get the chance to tell you how much you meant to me."

She pauses for a few moments, placing a finger on his lips to indicate that she isn't finished.

"When you appeared in the doorway and took out the men who were about to torture me to death, I was overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. Love? You bet. Relief? Hell yeah. Anger? That too. I guess I expected you to sweep me into your arms and when that didn't happen…"

"Mac, we were under fire. I was trying to…"

"Trying to just keep us alive, I know that, Harm. Please, just let me finish," she says, fighting the frustration which is creeping into her voice.

"Later on, when we were back at the hotel, I found myself so angry at you for not telling me what you were feeling. I already knew you loved me, you wouldn't have traveled five thousand miles, thrown away your career, and risked your life for me if you didn't."

Her eyes are drenched in tears now and she feels herself beginning to tremble. She also feels his arms tighten around her. She doesn't mean for it to, but her voice rises with each sentence. "Maybe it has something to do with my past, but I wanted, no, I needed to hear you tell me those three little words. And when you didn't, I got angry and I pushed you away, again. When we got back home, you were out of a job and because of that you dropped out of my life. To make matters worse, I was vulnerable, so what do I do? I fall into Clayton Webb's arms. I'd done it again. I allowed myself to get involved with another man, when all along, I knew my heart still belonged to you, like it has almost from the day we met, and like it will until the day I die."

By the time she finishes, Sarah is almost shouting and she can see tears in his eyes as well. _This is just as hard for him as it is for me,_ she thinks. Forcing her voice back to normal, she presses on.

"I've told you all about me seeing a therapist while we were back in DC. Commander McCool helped me a great deal, much more than you know. But the truth is, Harm, I'm still nowhere near cleaning out my garbage. The guilt I'm feeling is part of it. I need to get back into therapy but with everything that's happened; I haven't had a chance to find someone I trust. I've done a few sessions with Vicky over the phone and that's helped but I need to see someone face to face. Do you understand, Harm, does any of this make sense to you?"

"Yeah, Mac, it does," he replies. "Sarah, you, more than anyone else, knows how hard it has been me to discuss what I'm feeling, even with you. I know it isn't easy baring your soul. There are a lot of things I've told you that I would never tell anyone else. So yes, I do understand. What can I do to help?""

"Harm, I need to ask you something, and this is going to be difficult. You might get angry with me, but, I really need to know…"

"What is it, Sarah?"

"Right after I returned from the JAG conference in San Diego, I tried to call you about Mattie. Because you wouldn't get back to me I had to drive down to Blacksburg to see you in person."

She sees his expression go dark and she quickly interjects, "I know we've discussed this. Just hear me out. I've already told you how deeply I was hurt when you pushed me away, but there is something I didn't consider until tonight. My being there reminded you of Mattie's father, didn't it?"

When Harm looked away, she realized she had stumbled on the answer.

"The night before, I ran into Tom in the middle of town. He was so drunk he could barely stand. His little girl was in the hospital, fighting for her life, and all he seemed to care about was washing away his pain with booze," he say, the anger in his voice briefly startling her.

"Seeing you at the hospital, just reminded me of him. And I didn't want to take the anger I was feeling at him, out on you, Sarah. You've been through enough already…I am so sorry…so very sorry…for shutting you out…"

In the nine years they have known each other, this is the first time she has ever seen him truly break down. As he has done for her so many times before, her arms now provide a safe haven for him to grieve.

_"What were you feeling just now,"_ she remembers, as Vicky's voice echoes through her head.

_"More than I intended,"_ was her reply.

_"That, Colonel, is grief."_

Remembering how she was feeling and what she needed, she tightens her embrace around her husband.

"I won't ever try to push you aside again," he says, once he recovers enough to speak.

"I won't let you," she replies. "Sometimes people will push you away because they really want to be alone, and sometimes they do it just to see if you care enough to follow them into hell. I think I went the wrong way. I promise you, I won't make the mistake again."

"Sarah, I was so angry with him that I might have said something I didn't…"

"Shhh," she says, holding her fingers to his lips. "We gave up the right to shut each other out when we said _I do._ So deal with it, flyboy."

They stayed quiet for a while content to caress each other while basking in emotional intimacy. She wanted more, but she knew neither of them would be willing to risk their career on a transitory indiscretion. There would be time enough for that once they returned to the mainland. At least that is what she hoped for.

"Do you want your rack back, ninja girl?"

"No, I'm fine just the way we are, flyboy, unless you're not comfortable?"

"I'm good," he says. "I just want you to be at your best in court tomorrow. I understand the lead trial counsel is a real sadist." A tad of levity had returned to his voice.

"Are you speaking from experience, flyboy?" she teases.

"Not in the way that you're thinking," he retorts. "I'm just thankful she wasn't chosen as the Admiral's replacement."

"Yeah, I can see how awkward that could have been. You would have known how I first felt about Cresswell."

"I told you not to worry, Mac. Your record speaks for itself, and the General knows that."

She is silent with that as she remembers a conversation with her CO a few days before the incident which sent them to the Sea of Japan.

"Harm, have you thought about what's going to happen if this situation doesn't go well?"

"You mean, if we lose?"

"No, I mean, what happens if we win. The North Koreans probably aren't going to take it very well…and…we're already fighting in Afghanistan, we still have occupying forces in Iraq, we have forces deployed all over the globe in the war on terrorism. Our forces are stretched pretty far already, Harm. Think about what it will mean for us if a shooting war breaks out in Korea."

"I don't think it will have any effect on you personally although I would expect to see some of your staff being reassigned…"

"I'll lose two thirds of my staff to field deployments. My XO will end up spending more time on ships than he will at home. Harriet is worried sick. And what about you, Harm, do you think the Navy is going to keep that shinny new squadron of yours as a reserve piece. You could end up on the front lines."

She stops as she sees the expression on his face is one of acknowledgement instead of surprise. "You know something, don't you?" she presses.

"Call it a suspicion. I received a call today from Lockheed. The aircraft delivery schedule has been bumped forward. The remaining aircraft will be delivered to San Diego be the end of next week. I didn't say anything because I wanted to check into it before worrying you. I expect to have an answer tomorrow afternoon."

"I'm not going to like what I hear, am I," she says.

"No, because I certainly don't."

Saying nothing else, Sarah pulls her husband closer and buries her face into his chest. _The dream was a warning,_ she thinks to herself.


	11. Opening Moves

**Chapter 10:**

**23:45 ZULU**

**USS Patrick Henry, 150 miles east of the Korean DMZ**

"Lt. Commander Michael Costa, Lt. Commander Katherine Skunzia, you are both charged with violating Article 81 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice, by conspiring together to suppress the truth as to the events which occurred on the afternoon of 7-June-2005. Since it is alleged that this action was the result of a romantic attachment between you, the prosecution is also charging you with violating Article 133, for conduct unbecoming of an officer."

Admiral Richards, the presiding officer paused a moment before he finished reading the charges.

"Lt. Commander Costa, you alone are charged with violating Article 111 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice, by operating a military aircraft while having a blood alcohol level above the prescribed limit for operating said aircraft. These are the charges and specifications as set forth in the record. How do you plead?"

As the lead counsel of record, Mac stood to face the judge, "Your Honor, on behalf of both our clients, we plead not guilty on all counts."

"So entered. Captain Krennick, you may begin with your opening statements."

"Thank you, Your Honor," she said, as she stood and waltzed over to where the jury was seated.

As Krennick began bloviating to the members, Harm exchanged a look with his wife. Sarah had never seen Krennick in a courtroom and thus never been exposed to the pompous and lengthy openings she had made legendary.

Neither he nor his wife had managed to get much sleep after her nightmare had awakened them and they had little time to discuss things this morning. Harm knew they were both going to be in for a long day.

As of this morning, the second set of tests which Mac had request be done on the blood and urine samples had still not been completed although they hoped to have the results by late tomorrow afternoon. _If those tests come back clean, Mac, the prosecution's case will fall apart_, he had said to her just before they entered the wardroom.

They had decided that Mac would give the opening arguments and Harm would provide the closing statements. If things didn't go well during the trial, Harm's experience as an aviator would help him to cast doubt into the minds of the members when he challenged the idea that Costa could have flown the aircraft in the alleged state he was in.

When Krennick had finished delivering the prosecution's opening arguments, Harm watched his wife counter almost every point with a tenacity which made his teeth hurt, yet filled him with a sense of pride. The rough night she suffered through had done nothing to her ability to make her points very clear to the members. He would later swear that steam was coming from Krennick's ears.

After the opening statements were concluded the presiding officer called for a short recess.

"Interesting arguments, Colonel," said Krennick as she turned to leave the room. "A bit dramatic, but interesting."

Before Mac could respond, Harm piped up. "What's a matter, Alison, she get you a little warm under the collar?" he quipped, punctuating his statement with his trademark megawatt smile. "I told you not to underestimate her."

Krennick turned and walked away without another word. When he looked down at his wife, she was wearing a quirky little grin.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" she asked.

"Would you think any less of me if I say yes?"

"Not at all."

...

By mid morning, the prosecution had called in about ten witnesses who had claimed to have seen evidence of the alleged relationship between the two aviators. The only thing they had managed to establish was that there was a relationship of sorts, but, so far, the prosecution had yet to prove the relationship was anything other than platonic. That was, until the next witness was called.

"Do you affirm that the testimony you are about to give is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?" asked Lt. Vukovic, as he swore the witness in.

"I do, sir."

"State your name, rank, and position for the record, please.

"Petty Officer First Class Franklin James, communications technician, _USS Patrick Henry_, sir."

"Be seated, Petty Officer."

To Harm's surprise, Vukovic once again returned to his seat and Krennick herself stood to question the witness.

"Petty Officer James, you were assigned to the CIC on the afternoon of the incident, is that correct?"

"Yes, ma'am. I was detailed to maintain communications with the CAP, combat air patrol."

"Would you describe your duties for the court, Petty Officer?"

"Yes, ma'am. It is my job to relay command instruction to the pilots from the CAG or his designee and communicate tactical information back to the crew manning the CIC. I also monitor the communications between the pilots and advise the CAG or the Air Boss if the situation warrants."

"Would you tell the court what you saw and heard on the afternoon of June 7th?"

"We had five aircraft running CAP that afternoon. Radar had picked up two bogeys heading away from the mainland and heading for the carrier group. The CAG, Captain Carlson, had ordered Tuna and Athena to intercept and identify the targets."

"By Tuna and Athena, you are referring to Commanders Costa and Skunzia is that correct?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Who else was flying on that afternoon?" asked Krennick.

"Bullfrog, that's Lt. Beauregard, Splashdown, Lt. Frasier, and Snake, Lt. Gingell, ma'am."

"What happened next, Petty Officer?"

"Tuna broke formation in order to verify the number of targets. When they realized they were up against two pair, the CAG ordered in additional aircraft. The exchange was over in less than a minute, ma'am."

"After Lt. Commander Costa's plane was shot up, he was escorted back by Lt. Commander Skunzia, is that correct."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Did you notice anything unusual about their communications, tone of voice, intonation, that sort of thing?"

"Objection," barked Rabb. "Calls for speculation."

"Your Honor," said Krennick. "Petty Officer James is testifying as an expert witness and the tapes are part of the mission records. I can produce them now if the Captain wishes."

"I agree," said the Admiral. "Overruled, the witness will answer the question."

"Commander Skunzia, seemed agitated, ma'am, they were both using their first names rather than their call signs."

"Did it seem to you that her concern was something other than for the well being of a fellow aviator?"

"Objection," Mac called out. "Counsel is leading the witness."

"Withdrawn, Your Honor," Krennick responded before the judge could rule.

Captain Krennick returned to her table and briefly referred to her notes. Looking back at the witness, she continued her line of questioning.

"Petty Officer James, you were on liberty in Seoul during the week of April 23, is that correct?"

"Yes ma'am."

"And while on leave, you witnessed the defendants engaged in a romantic encounter…"

"Objection," said Mac. "Facts not in evidence."

"Sustained."

"I'll rephrase, Your Honor," replied Krennick. "Petty Officer James, please tell the court exactly what you witnessed take place between the defendants on the date in question."

"I was having dinner at the Parkview, ma'am. It's an open air restaurant in the Jung-gu section of town. That is where I saw Commanders' Skunzia and Costa. They were seated at a small table near the edge of the terrace."

"Did they know you were there, Petty Officer?"

"No ma'am, the group I was with, well, we were all in civvies."

"Were the defendants in uniform?" asked Captain Krennick as she proceeded to pace in front of the witness stand.

"No ma'am. In fact I didn't even recognize Commander Skunzia. That's what drew my attention."

"And why is that, Petty Officer?"

Well, ma'am, everyone on the ship suspected they were involved…"

"By _they_, you are referring to the defendants. Is that correct?"

"Yes, ma'am, as I was saying everyone I know thought they had a thing for each other. When I saw Commander Costa with another woman, I was curious. It wasn't until she looked our way that I realized the woman was Commander Skunzia."

"Please tell the court what you saw then," prodded Krennick.

"They were sitting very close together with their backs towards us, allowing them to look out at the mountain. I was just about to turn back to my table when I saw them draw together into a lingering kiss."

"Thank you, Petty Officer, no further questions," said Krennick as she returned to her seat. Looking at Mac, she said, "Your witness."

While Mac stood to cross examine, Harm wrote a note for both of his clients to read. _Why didn't you tell us about this!_

"Petty Officer James," began Mac. "Let's go back to the day of the incident. You stated that Commander Skunzia seemed concerned and agitated and she was referring to Commander Costa by name. Isn't it possible that she was simply concerned for the well being of a fellow aviator?"

"Yes ma'am, I suppose it is."

"And have you ever heard other aviators forego the use of their call signs in a stressful situation?"

"I have, ma'am."

"Regarding the incident at the restaurant," Mac pressed. "Are you absolutely certain that it was the defendants who you saw and not someone else?"

"If it wasn't, ma'am, then they both have doubles living in Seoul. Commander Skunzia looked right at me."

"Thank you, Petty Officer, no further questions for now, but I reserve the right to recall this witness at a later date."

"Petty Officer James, you may step down," said Admiral Richards. "The prosecution may call its next…"

The rest of the Admiral's sentence was interrupted by the alert klaxon.

"General quarters, general quarters, all hands man your battle stations. This is not a drill."

"Court is in recess until further notice," the Admiral quickly said as he dashed towards the hatch.

While Krennick and Vukovic raced to join the Captain and XO on the bridge, Harm and Mac quickly made their way to the CIC. When they arrived, Admiral Richards and the CAG were already apprised of the tactical situation. The room was darkened, illuminated mostly by the glow of the computer and radar displays.

"All stations, set condition one throughout the ship," came an announcement through the ship's 1MC. Harm briefly looked down to catch his wife's expression. This wasn't the first time they had faced fire together and she was maintaining a brave front worthy of any Marine but he could see the concern in her eyes; a concern that mirrored his own.

"Maybe we should have gone to London," he said, just loud enough for her to hear him.

"Somehow, I don't think that would make a difference, Harm. Trouble seems to have no trouble finding us."

Once Richards was finished issuing orders he turned to face the two JAG lawyers.

"Our North Korean friends are at it again. We have a flight of thirty five fighters closing on the task force from the North. Captain Tobias has General Kim on the bridge with him now, and we're trying to establish contact with the KPAF forces commander to demand an explanation. Fighters from _Enterprise_ and _George Washington_ are moving in to intercept the targets we are tracking."

"Why would they pull something like this now?" asked Mac. "They agreed to stand down pending the outcome of the trial. Hell they even have their own people onboard."

"It won't be the first time a nation has sacrificed its own people, Mac," Harm commented.

Rabb watched the two sets of forces converge on the radar screen. The lead elements of the KPAF were almost close enough to launch their anti-ship missiles.

"I need a legal opinion, Rabb," Richards, asked. "Am I justified in firing first in this situation?"

"If we fire first, Admiral, we will violate our ROE. As much as I don't like the idea, we have to let them take the first shot. Any other action will be an act of war."

"I've got almost twenty thousand men and women whose lives are at stake here Captain Rabb. Colonel MacKenzie, do you concur with the Captain's opinion?"

"I do, sir. Let's assume they want war, but don't want the blame for starting it. They take a provocative looking action, we panic and fire first which gives them the provocation they need to escalate the conflict."

"Technically, Colonel we are still at war. The Korean conflict ended with only a cease fire, not an armistice."

"If we respond, we will be playing right into their hands, Admiral," she replied.

"Colonel MacKenzie is right, Admiral. Our hands are tied."

The Admiral was not happy with the answer. He looked back at the radar screen before issuing his next order.

"Well, I'm not going to sit here with my thumb up my ass. CAG!" he called to the air group commander. "I'm lifting the suspension on air operation. Get our birds in the air!"

"Aye, aye, sir!"

Suddenly one of the radar ops franticly called out, "Vampire, vampire! Tracking four inbound missiles!"

"Still think they are just playing chicken, Captain?" commented Richards.

One of the enemy aircraft had launched its anti-ship missiles, and the _Patrick Henry_ was the target.


	12. Aftermath

**Chapter 11:**

On the bridge of the _Nimitz_ class super carrier, the CIC talker blares out, "_Vampire, Vampire! Tracking four inbound missiles!"_

"Right full rudder! All ahead flank," yells Captain Ingles. "Come to new course one-two zero!"

Ingles knows he has no chance of outrunning the Russian built Kh31 _Krypton_ missiles. With a maximum speed of Mach 3.5, the targets were one and a half times faster than the SM-2s carried by the two Aegis guided missile cruisers tasked with protecting the task force. But by maneuvering to put his stern to the incoming threat he hopes to reduce his radar signature.

"XO, verify that the CIWS is armed and ready."

"Aye, aye sir."

The Phalanx close in weapons system was designed to target and eliminate any airborne threat at a distance of less than 2000 yards. At such a close distance, collateral damage from shrapnel was a very real threat. The two Aegis missile cruisers, the _USS Gettysburg_ and the _USS Normandy_ opened fire on the anti-ship missiles.

"_Normandy_, reports two of the missiles have been taken out, sir"

A few seconds later, the portside CIWS on the ship's stern opened fire on the pair of incoming missiles detonating the first warhead at a range of just under a mile. A fraction of a second after, the second missile exploded less than a hundred yards from the ship. Shrapnel from the explosion tore into the flight deck, killing a dozen or so exposed crewmembers, ripping them to shreds. Two aircraft which were being prepped for launch exploded when pieces of hot shrapnel cooked off the ordnance they were carrying.

Several pieces of shrapnel came through the bridge windows shattering them as the XO, helmsman, and two other members of the bridge crew were felled by flying glass. Next to Captain Krennick, Lt. Vukovic collapsed when a piece of glass caught him in the chest.

Captain Ingles shouted to Krennick, "Alison, take the helm. Hold us steady on course one-two zero."

Reaching for the mic, he dialed up sickbay.

"This is the Captain. I need a couple of corpsman up here, on the double!"

...

In the CIC, Mac and Harm both felt the ship shudder from the force of the explosions topside. On the monitor they could see the carnage on the flight deck.

"That was too close," said Harm.

Mac had been under fire more times than she could remember, but most of those times she had solid ground under her feet and a weapon in her hand. Right now she felt helpless, and that pissed her off more than it scared her.

"I'll take a stand up ground operation any day of the week," she said to her husband.

At the radar scopes, the combat tracking team was still following the air battle which was about to get underway. The fighters from _Enterprise_ and _George Washington_ were almost in range.

"As soon as those Korean fighters are in missile range I want them taken out!" yelled Admiral Richards. Mac saw that his face was blood red in anger.

"Admiral, North Korean targets are disengaging. They're breaking off!"

"Like hell they are. CAG order our fighters to pursue and destroy. I want those planes out of my sky!"

"Aye, aye sir."

"Admiral Richards," another voice said. Mac turned to see the communications officer approach the Admiral. He had a facsimile in his hand.

"Flash traffic from PACFLT, sir."

Admiral Richards took the piece of paper and quickly scanned over it. By his expression, Mac knew he wasn't happy at all.

"You're not going to believe this," he said to the two lawyers in front of him.

"What does it say, Admiral?" asked Harm.

"We've been ordered to stand down. Apparently one of the waist panty folks in the State Department got a phone call just as this mess blew up. The North Koreans are blaming all of this on a communications blackout."

"A communications black out, sir?" clarified Mac. "With all due respect, this was an unprovoked act of war."

"You won't get any argument from me, Colonel. Intel reports that the KPAF is flying failsafe type missions, similar to the ones SAC flew during the cold war. For some reason their wing commander was unable to recall them before they reached the point of no return. This dispatch cited something about a frequency mix up."

"So what now, Admiral?" asked Harm. "I just saw a dozen men and women on that flight deck lose their lives."

Mac knew her husband was angry. He had served on this ship for almost six months and had returned here for his carrier quals. The chances were good that he knew some, if not all of the people who just lost their lives.

"Well, I know one thing I and going to do right now," said Richards. He walked over to the intercom and picked up the mike. "Master at Arms, this is the Admiral. I want you to find our three North Korean guests and lock them in the brig."

"Aye, aye, sir," came the crisp response.

"Pass the orders onto the fleet, Sparks," continued Richards, addressing the communications officer. "Have the fighters break off and return. The fleet is to maintain condition one until further orders."

He turned to the CAG, "As soon as we are able, I want our own fighters in the air. Get a hold of the air boss and report back to me ASAP."

"Aye, aye, sir," came the replies.

...

Twenty five minutes after the attack, Harm and Mac had followed the Admiral to the bridge. Harm was appalled when he saw the carnage which had taken place. The XO and the helmsman had both died at their posts and two other members of the deck crew had sustained serious although not life threatening injuries. Lt. Vukovic was in surgery and was listed in critical condition. In all, fifteen members of the crew had lost their lives and another thirty or so had been injured.

As Harm and Mac listened, the new XO ran down the damage report.

"The main search radar is out, and we've lost several of the communications antennas," he said, reading from the clip board. "The flight deck is being swept for debris and should be operational within the hour. Catapult number 2 has a damaged shuttle which needs replacement, estimate three hours to complete. There was no damage to the Flag Bridge or the control tower. Damage to the navigation bridge will take about six hours to repair."

Underneath his feet, harm could hear the crunching of glass as he walked on the deck.

"Very well," said the Captain. He turned to face the Admiral. "Sir, do you wish to transfer your Flag?"

"Negative, Captain. Most of this is superficial. Besides, I still have a court martial to preside over. Before I came up here, I personally spoke to PACFLT. If it was up to him, we would be sailing north to pound on some North Korean ass; however, the administration is concerned about stretching our resources too thin. They want to avoid an armed conflict with the North Koreans by whatever means necessary, even if it means taking one on the chin."

"Excuse me, sir," said Ingles, whose temper was fired up. "These SOBs pull a surprise attack on my ship, kill over a dozen of my men, including my XO, and I'm supposed to just sit on my hands?"

"Take it easy, Toby. For what it's worth, I'm on your side. So are the joint chiefs. There is a piece of good news."

"And that is, sir?" asked the Captain.

"We no longer have to extend our North Korean guests every courtesy. When they are not eating or observing the trial, they are to be confined to quarters, under guard."

"With all due respect, Admiral, I'd just assume leave them in the brig."

Harm found himself in complete agreement with the Skipper. He had thought the idea of having the trial aboard ship was a bad move from the start.

Richards turned his attention to the three lawyers, "Captain Krennick, how soon before you are ready to rest your case?"

"I only have two more witnesses to call, sir. Barring the incident today, we should have wrapped up our case by day's end. I'm still open to deal if the defense is interested." Krennick gave both Mac and Harm a spiteful look.

"Colonel?" the Admiral queried. "Can the two of you reach an agreement to wrap this up?"

"Not with the deal, she's offering, sir" replied Mac. "Harm and I think we can win this case on the merits."

"You agree with that, Captain Rabb?"

"I do, sir. The prosecution's case against one of our clients is based entirely on circumstantial evidence. The only charge we would even consider negotiating is the operation while impaired."

"I see," replied the Admiral. "We'll reconvene proceedings tomorrow morning."

Richards walked over to the chart table and picked up a message form. Looking directly at Rabb and MacKenzie he added. "I received a message from General Cresswell, Colonel MacKenzie. The O-6 board just reported out and congratulations are in order, you've been promoted."

"Thank you, sir," said Mac. Beside her, Harm flashed his megawatt smile her way as he added his own heartfelt yet unspoken congratulations. Before he could utter the words, the Admiral drew his attention elsewhere.

"Captain Rabb, we have a VIP coming on board. He'll be arriving on the next COD run scheduled for late this afternoon. He wants to meet with you and the Colonel as soon as he comes aboard."

"Do we know what this is about, sir?"

"I'm told it's classified, however, I will expect you to notify me if this information changes our risk assessment. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," replied Rabb. "Sir, were you told who is flying out?"

"Some spook from Langley, or so I'm told."

Harm and Mac just looked at each other, and Harm was sure they were thinking the same thing. The only person that could fit that description was none other than Clayton Webb. _Every time we get mixed up with him, he almost gets us killed._

"Anything else, Admiral?" asked Harm.

"No, that will be all. Carry on."

"Aye, aye, sir," said the three lawyers in unison.

...

Krennick had stayed behind to confer with Captain Ingles leaving Harm and Mac alone on the gangway. Below them, Harm watched as the crew worked vigorously to clear the flight deck of debris so the carrier would be able to resume flight operations.

"Fifteen people, Harm," his wife said to him. "Regardless of how the trial goes, this isn't going to end well. Despite everything else, I just can't see the American public willing to take this attack sitting down."

"I'm not so sure, Mac. We've been on a war footing since 9-11. That's almost four years. Not to mention the fact that our campaign in Iraq isn't popular amongst the American people. Look at our history. After we won the war in Europe, there was a growing movement to bring World War Two to a quick close in the Pacific. The Korean conflict wasn't popular the first time it was fought, not to mention how close it resonates with the conflict in Vietnam."

"Thinking about your father again," she asks.

"It's kind of hard not to, Sarah," he replies, his voice colored with emotion. "If this blows up in our face, there is a good chance I'm going to be out on a carrier flying dangerous missions over enemy territory. I don't want to see you suffer the same fate as my mother and grandmother…"

He stops mid sentence and looks out over the flight deck. By now most of the deck has been cleared of debris and the plane handlers are bringing the first Hornet squadron up onto the deck. He feels her hand reaching to turn his face back towards her. She is trying to keep up the tough Marine front but he sees that her lips are quivering. The sight is almost enough for him to lose control over his own turbulent emotions.

"I fell in love with and married an aviator in the United States Navy. Deep down inside, this has always been who you are. Face it, Harm, the biggest reason you came back to JAG had nothing to do with being dead ended in a flying career. You were, and still are good enough to overcome that. You came back to JAG…because of me. If I had followed my heart…instead of my head, I would have…realized that much sooner. So don't get any ideas about…about not coming back to me…flyboy…if you go MIA…I'll hunt you down…when I find you…I'll kick you in the six for getting shot down."

Harm could see that her emotion control was all but shattered. They were alone on the gangway so he took her into his arms stretching the limits of what military decorum would allow.

"Trust me, Mac. I'm more scared of you than the enemy," he said as they drew apart.

"No, you're not," she countered, "even though you should be."

When they had both composed themselves again, Mac shifted the conversation.

"I'm going down to check on Lt. Vukovic," she offered. "I know we don't exactly see eye to eye, but we were former colleagues at JAG HQ. One of us should check in on him. I don't think Krennick will, even though I think she should."

"That's very nice of you, Mac," replied Harm. "If he's awake, tell him I'll stop in to see him after my meeting with the CAG."

"You don't mind?"

"Of course not, it's the right thing to do. Why would you think I would mind?"

"It's silly, I know, but, he did make a play for me once. I just don't want you to get the wrong idea."

"The thought never even crossed my mind," said Harm, slightly amused. "When did this happen?"

"It was during the San Diego conference," she replied. "I don't know whether he was just trying to sweet talk a deal for his client or if he had an ulterior motive. It doesn't matter; he wound up with cold water on his parade."

"Ouch!"

"Hey, he wanted to play with fire, so if he got burned it's his own fault."

"Has anyone ever told you that you can be devious?"

"Once or twice," she offered, a smile gracing her face before she tuned to go. "I'll catch up with you later."


	13. Old Wounds

**Chapter 12:**

**01:30 ZULU**

**Sickbay, USS Patrick Henry**

Caught somewhere between the realm of consciousness and the dream laden kingdom of sleep, Lt. Gregory Vukovic found himself being tantalized by the voice of a woman who was now forever beyond his reach. Well, she had always been beyond his reach, separated by almost ten years in age, not to mention two grades in rank. The first time he had ever laid eyes on Sarah MacKenzie was when he, quite literally bumped into her on his very first day at JAG HQ. As far as making first impressions went, that moment certainly did not fall into his top ten.

Greg had met and been involved with beautiful women throughout his life but his first impression of the Marine Lt. Colonel had knocked his compass off its pin. In his opinion, she was the most striking woman he had ever met. Slightly taller than average, her attributes were very well proportioned, making her uniform look better than should have been legally possible. She had a smile which he found to be most infectious on the rare occasions he had been allowed to see it and a pair of chocolate brown eyes in which a man could lose himself forever. _Bedroom eyes,_ he had thought. _Too bad they are meant for only one man. _Although no one at JAG would confirm it, Vukovic knew that Rabb and MacKenzie had a relationship which went well beyond colleagues and well beyond friendship, a trait which was evident in the way that they looked at each other.

Vukovic had always been a player, casting relationships aside with little regard to the feelings of those his path had crossed. He tended to look at each encounter as a conquest to be had, and when the thrill of the chase was over, he would simply move on to his next quarry. The more difficult the chase, the more satisfying the conquest, he had reasoned. It wasn't until the San Diego conference when he realized just how much he had underestimated Mac. He had invited her away from the dance floor up to a platform which overlooked the city with the intention luring her under his spell. She had been impressed with the view and Greg assumed, quite incorrectly, that she had let her guard down. Just as he was about to make his move, she turned and walked away, leaving him all hot and bothered. Her actions proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was well out of his league. For Greg, it had been a sobering experience.

On a professional level, he had not fared much better. During the very first case they were assigned to, Vukovic had stepped out of bounds by offering a deal to the prosecution without Lt. Colonel MacKenzie's knowledge or approval. He further complicated matters when he used a ruse to root out the truth that Lt. Revere had ordered Gunnery Sergeant DiNunzio to seize the personally owned vehicle for military use. When confronted about the ruse, Vukovic extended the prod by saying that she wouldn't turn him into the rules committee because, in fact, she really liked the tactic he had used. But her answer caused him to have second thoughts. _"Don't bet your career on it, Lieutenant."_

It wasn't until later that he realized the depth of his miscalculation. When word got out that Rabb and MacKenzie had received promotions and were picking their own staff, Greg approached Mac about going to San Diego with her. Her subsequent flat out refusal to even consider it, led him to resort to the unorthodox method of calling her own past mistakes into question. That was the last time he had spoken to her prior to this investigation, however, some of the things she had said to him over the few short months they had known each other had begun to resonate with him.

By the time he had returned from the TAD to Parris Island, Mac and Harm had announced their engagement and she had left for San Diego. That Monday, Commander Roberts and his wife were showing the pictures they had taken at McMurphy's Tavern the night of the impromptu engagement celebration. Captain Rabb was wearing his Mess Dress uniform and Mac, his bride to be was wearing a burgundy evening dress, the same one she had worn in San Diego at the General's dinner party.

He wondered why it had taken them so long to find each other. He knew Rabb was in his early forties and MacKenzie had to be in her mid to late thirties. Thinking about that made him remember that he only had a few more years before joining the 30 something crowd. _I need to stop playing around and get serious,_ he had thought.

In his semiconscious state he heard her voice again. Pulling himself from the reaches of sleep he forced himself to open his eyes. At first he thought he was still dreaming, as the first thing he saw was Sarah MacKenzie, wearing one of her rare beautiful smiles.

"I must be still dreaming," he said, barely above a whisper. "Either that or I've died and gone to heaven."

"How do you feel, Lieutenant?" she asked.

Her use of his rank brought him fully into the here and now and he realized that he was in sickbay.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry if I said something inappropriate…"

"Relax, Lieutenant," she said, cutting him off. "I'll take it as a compliment."

To Greg this whole situation was surreal. Mac was the last person he would expect to be by his bedside.

"Why, ma'am?"

"Why, what, Lieutenant?"

"Why are you here, ma'am? I thought you hated me."

"I don't hate you, Lieutenant," she said. "Although, I have to say, I didn't much care for your attitude, and I don't like some of the things I've seen you do."

"I don't understand, ma'am," he said. "I really don't think I'm much different than Captain Rabb."

"Dream on, Lieutenant," she chucked. "Trust me; the two of you are nothing alike."

"That isn't what General Cresswell said to me, ma'am."

"Yeah, he told me once too. I didn't agree with him then, I don't agree with him now, and I wouldn't have agreed with him nine years ago."

"Why is that, ma'am?"

"Harm _was_ brash when he was younger; in fact, he still can be, but only to a point. Time and experience have seasoned him. But, he has never been full of himself, and his behavior has always been that of a gentleman. His honesty and integrity have always been above reproach, maybe that's why Harm and I hit it off so well."

"So you think I have too much confidence in myself?"

There is nothing wrong with self confidence, but there is a fine line between seasoned confidence and blind audaciousness. Overconfidence can get people killed, Lieutenant."

"Is that how you think of me on a professional level, ma'am?"

"Professionally, I still question your ethical behavior and judgment. That stunt you pulled during the DiNunzio trial was inexcusable. As an attorney, you are supposed to be an officer of the court," she said, but not unkindly. "How can I ever trust that what you are telling me is the truth? As co-counsel, I need to know my partner isn't going to compromise our client, and if we happened to be on opposite sides, I need to know the evidence you are presenting hasn't been tampered with."

"Captain Rabb says that we should always seek the truth, ma'am."

"And he is right. We should, but we never seek the truth by compromising our principles, ever. The minute we compromise our values, the justice system falls apart. The sad truth is, Lieutenant, sometimes the guilty will walk free. There is nothing we can do about that."

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she was mentoring him rather than chewing his ass, and maybe he was just seeing her in a different light, but he realized just how right she was.

"You've given me a lot to think about," he replied. "Truth is, I'm still very surprised to see you here, ma'am."

"I'm here, because it is the right thing to do, Greg," she said, using his given name for the first time. "Harm and I thought that having you wake up to a familiar face might help speed your recovery."

Greg frowned as he realized something, "How many people did we lose, Colonel?"

"Fifteen in all, including the XO; you are very lucky to be alive, Lieutenant. Had that piece of glass been an inch further to the right, you wouldn't be here."

"Captain Rabb and Captain Krennick are they all right?" he asked.

"They are both fine. Harm and I were both down in the CIC when the missiles exploded."

"Are we at war, ma'am?"

"No," said Mac. "The state department intervened just before we were going to launch a retaliatory strike. National Command Authority is hoping to avoid a war on another front."

"Wow," he said, shaking his head. Greg looked to the beds next to him seeing a number of crew who looked like they had lost limbs in the attack. _Why was I so lucky?_

"Well, Lieutenant, I have to leave. Harm asked me to tell you he'll be by later to say hello."

"Before you go, ma'am."

She sat back down in the chair and he took a deep breath. _Here goes nothing._

"Would you accept an apology which is long overdue, ma'am?" he asked. When she nodded her head, he went on, "What I said to you, before you left JAG headquarters was, well, grossly insensitive on my part. I had no right to question you about your relationship with Captain Rabb, nor did I have the right to pry into your past. I'm truly sorry for that, ma'am."

He was rewarded with the beautiful smile he had become so fond off, the one that he had only seen on rare occasion.

"Apology accepted, Lieutenant, but I do have to warn you," she began. "If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I'll drop kick your six clear into next week."

She was still smiling while she was speaking but Greg took her friendly warning to heart.

"Won't ever happen again, ma'am, I promise."

"Get some sleep, Lieutenant. As soon as you are well enough to travel you're heading for the beach."

As she walked out of the compartment, Vukovic thought to himself, _Harmon Rabb is one lucky man._

...

**01:30 ZULU**

**Wardroom, USS Patrick Henry**

Alison Krennick had always been ambitious, especially when she was younger. Having entered the Naval Academy right out of high school, she was into her twenty fifth year as a Naval Officer. But there had been a cost for her ambition and that cost was a family life.

Krennick had turned 46 in May and she had begun to consider some of the choices she had made, both as an officer, and as a woman. As an officer, she had always had her eye on the Navy's top billet for a lawyer, the coveted Judge Advocate General posting. Because of that goal, decisions she would have made as a woman, were often cast aside. There were times that she regretted making some of those decisions although those times were few and far between. That was, until the day Captain Rabb and his wife, came onboard. Now, she found herself questioning the paths she had chosen.

Last year, she had been considered for the post she had worked so hard and sacrificed so much for. Unfortunately the selection board had decided she didn't have the right qualifications and the chances of landing a second shot at the post were grim indeed. Her hopes were raised once again when General Cresswell began reviewing service records to fill the vacant post of Force Judge Advocate in Europe. But she had only held the position of FJA Asia for a few months which made her ineligible for transfer. With no other candidates to choose from, the selection committee waited to examine the results of the O-6 promotion board. Her blood boiled when she learned who the board had chosen. No sooner did she hear about Rabb's promotion she learned through her own sources that he was refusing the position and transferring to San Diego, in order to marry, a fellow JAG lawyer he had worked with for nine years. _Which means he met her just after I was transferred out of JAG,_ she thought, bitterly.

Alison had been warned about the resemblance between Colonel MacKenzie and Diane Schonke, Rabb's slain girlfriend, but seeing it firsthand had set Krennick ill at ease. _I wonder if Colonel MacKenzie knows he married his girlfriend's ghost._

The sound of the hatch closing pulled her from her thoughts. She knew it was bound to happen sooner or later as the object of her distress walked into the room.

"Am I disturbing," Harm asked, politely. "I was supposed to meet with the CAG."

"No Captain, that's fine," she replied, considering if she should follow through with her suspicions. "Harm, I was wondering if we might speak privately for a moment."

"What's on your mind, Alison?" he asked, while grabbing a cup of coffee.

"Do you remember what happened the last time we saw each other?"

"How could I forget?" replied Rabb. "You and I had a rather unpleasant conversation in my office which ended with us agreeing to just give each other a wide berth. The following day, I went TAD to the _John F. Kennedy._ When I returned a month later, Admiral Chegwidden called me into his office and told me you had been reassigned."

"Did he tell you why?"

"No, and I didn't ask. I had assumed you had taken an assignment which would further your career. You made it no secret that you wanted the Admiral's chair one day."

"And I would have had it," she stated, with barely veiled animosity, "If it hadn't been for you."

"Just what do you mean by that?" asked Rabb. His voice was tight and she could see that her accusation had pissed him off. "If you think for a minute that I told the Admiral anything we discussed, you're dead wrong. Is this what has been eating at you all week?"

"Don't give me that," she snapped back. "If you didn't say anything about this to Admiral Chegwidden then please tell me who did? My promotion, as you call it, was to the JAG office in San Diego which was, at the time, a career ender."

"I don't have the answer to that, Alison," Rabb said, in a calmer voice. "I gave you my word. If somebody told the Admiral, it wasn't me."

Alison Krennick stared off for a moment wondering for the first time whether she had drawn the wrong conclusion. She had figured Harmon Rabb for a lot of things, but a liar wasn't one of them.

"If you didn't say anything, then who did?" she asked.

"Consider this, Alison. If I had made a formal complaint, do you really believe that Admiral Chegwidden would have simply transferred you without some sort of disciplinary action? It's almost certain that you would have faced an Article 32. That is the only reason I didn't file a formal complaint, it would have ended your career."

"I never considered that," she said, he voice deflated. "But who knew about this, Lt. Austin?"

"Meg would have never done anything like that without telling me. But the truth is it could have been anyone in the office, they all knew what was going on."

Rabb paused for a moment, to sip his coffee before he spoke again.

"Alison, you're the FJA Asia, you have held several other key positions, and you were being considered for the position of Judge Advocate General. From where I stand, you have a notable career."

"You and I both know it's a one shot deal. The selection committee won't ever look at me again."

"Well, if it's any consolation, they won't be looking at me either," said Harm. "My career will probably end in a few years right in San Diego, and you know what, I'm fine with that."

"Why did you turn down that position, Harm? FJA Europe is a prime posting to becoming the next JAG."

"I got a better offer," he replied looking pensive as he shifted his eyes away.

His eyes held the same look Alison had seen whenever Harm and his wife were looking at each other.

"She must be very special to you. Does she know about…I mean…"

"That she looks like Diane?" he finished for her. "I told her the day I met her. But she's nothing like Diane, even her voice is different."

Krennick had always considered Rabb a rival for the Admiral's chair, and had always assumed that he would pursue this with the same ruthlessness which she had. She suddenly realized that she had grossly misjudged this man.

"I'm going to get going, Harm. The CAG should be along shortly and I have some things to prepare for tomorrow. I'm glad we were able to clear the air."

"That makes two of us," replied Rabb.

Krennick stood and walked away from the table. When she reached the hatch, she spun around, "Oh, by the way, Captain, tell your wife I'll try not to be such a bitch in court tomorrow, but I'm still going to whip both your sixes."

"We'll see about that."


	14. Spooks

**Chapter 13:**

**13:00 ZULU**

**USS Patrick Henry, 200 miles east of the Korean DMZ**

Mac found him where exactly where she knew he would be, on the gangway just abaft of the bridge, overlooking the flight deck. But instead of looking down at the darkened flight deck, his gaze was centered on the stars.

Flight operations had been terminated for the evening as the _Enterprise_ had been tasked with flying the nighttime CAP. Off in the distance, Mac could see her lit up like a beacon on the horizon. She approached her husband, placing her hand gently on his shoulder as she followed his gaze to the brightly starlit sky.

"I haven't seen stars like this since Afghanistan," she offers.

She senses rather than sees that his gaze has shifted and she meets his blue eyes with her own.

"As I remember, we had just settled down for the night to admire them when we almost got our sixes shot out from under us."

Mac allows herself to drift back to that evening. She and Harm had been on foot after the Humvee they were driving had been damaged by anti-personnel mines. The sun had gone down and they had found, what they thought would be a safe place to bed down. After some friendly banter about sharing body heat to fend off the cool desert night, they found themselves cuddled together just like the night they had spent in Appalachia several years before.

"Yeah, just our luck, huh?" she agrees.

They bask in silence for a while, just taking in each other's company.

"I spoke to the Air Boss," he says, after a while. "The COD is due in about forty minutes. I imagine the lights will come on shortly."

"Too bad, I kind of like seeing the night sky like this," she added.

"Before my Dad went MIA, he had taken Mom and I on a cross country vacation. On the way east, we drove by the Grand Canyon and stopped for the night in this little town nearby. The sky was almost as dark as this, you could see the band of the Milky Way as clear as day."

"Just like tonight?"

"Yeah, just like tonight."

Mac gazed back up at the stars, remembering some of what she had been feeling the night they spent in the desert, now over three years ago. She and Harm had righted their relationship several months prior, after she had taken some time to reflect on her failed relationship with Mic, and she was once again drawing closer to him. She was about to bring up their relationship when the attack forced them to run for cover.

"Harm?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you ever wonder what would have happened that night, in Afghanistan, if we hadn't been in the line of fire?"

When she looked back, she noticed she had his full attention.

"What are you trying to say, Mac?"

"That night, I was…feeling things. Things about you, things about…us. Right then, at that moment everything between us just seemed right. After the attack, it all got crazy and I lost my nerve."

"Are you having regrets, Sarah?"

"A little," she admitted. "Harm, I know there was a reason things happened the way they did and I don't regret being where we are now. It's just…well…we don't know where this conflict is going to wind up and…I'm just missing all the time we could have had together. Does all this make me crazy?"

"No, it doesn't. I felt something that night as well. I could have, no; I should have spoke to you about my own feelings, about…us. But I didn't, and to this day, I don't know why. So no, you're not crazy. Or maybe we were both crazy for not acting on our feelings. Look what it took to get us together."

Around them, the sudden flash of the deck lights illuminate what was a minute ago, pitch black. Mac notices that the runway lights of the angled flight deck and the crew taking their place on the LSO platform.

"I guess the COD is almost here," she says to him.

"About twenty minutes out," he replies. "Are we taking bets on who will step off that aircraft?"

"Up until last year, I would bet my career that it would be Webb, but now, I don't know. You know I haven't seen him since we called things off."

"Are you going to be all right if it is him who shows up?"

Mac knows her husband's interest is not out of jealousy, but real concern for her well being. She also knows how the events following their ill fated exploits in Paraguay had affected him. At the Admiral's Dining Out, Harm had told her that he liked the way Clay had made her happy, but deep inside, she knew her relationship with Webb had pierced his very soul in a way which still brought her shame and guilt. _If only he knew how unhappy I really was._

"Seeing him again might kick up some bad memories, Paraguay, Sadik, losing touch with you…"

"Mac, that's all in the past…"

"I know, Harm, but I still feel guilty about it. Maybe I shouldn't but I still do," she laments. "Neither one of us has heard from him, hell, he may not even know we're married. Do you know how awkward this could get?"

"We're talking about Clayton Webb. I'm sure he knows about us by now. To be honest, I was surprised not to see him show up at the hospital last Christmas Eve."

"I did tell Vicky that I would never see him again, maybe I'm getting worked up over nothing."

"It doesn't matter, Mac, if Webb is on the plane, we'll face it together, deal?"

"Deal."

Mac turned her attention back to the sky. The light pollution from the deck illumination had obscured all but the brightest stars, but she spotted the recognition lights of the twin engine COD as it entered the landing pattern by passing perpendicular to the vessel. She pointed almost directly overhead.

"I think that's it," she said to her husband.

They both watched as the aircraft pulled into a left hand turn soon after passing over the ship and began descending on its downwind leg.

"He's turning base now," said Harm, offhandedly, as the COD started to level out and pass by the stern almost a mile out. Mac was still watching the plane when her husband cleared his throat drawing her attention back to him.

"Mac, there is something else I wanted to ask you. I promised Mattie that I would take her back with me to pick up Sarah, and fly her back west, but she insists that I take you instead."

"Harm, bringing your plane out here was something she had been so looking forward to. Why would she want me to take her place?"

"I think she would like us to have some time alone. It's going to take at least three or four days, depending on the winds. Would you talk to her about it the next time she calls?"

"Don't get me wrong, Harm, I'd love to take that trip with you, but I'm going to talk her into not changing her mind. This is something the two of you had planned and I'm not going to take that from her. My only regret is your plane doesn't hold three. Did you call her today?"

"A little while ago," he replied. "That's when she brought this up."

"Any word about her father?"

"Not yet. She's worried, but Mom and Frank are keeping her occupied. So are Harriet and Bud. Jennifer has been spending time with her as well. I told her you would try to call her tomorrow afternoon."

"I miss her, Harm."

"I know, me too."

The rock crushing sound of the COD making its landing jarred their attention back to the flight deck. The plane handlers freed the Grumman Greyhound from the three wire and guided it to the debarkation spot near the island superstructure. Not one, but three men disembarked from the aircraft. One of them was wearing a tan naval overcoat and what looked like Admiral's stars on his shoulder boards. The other two men donned what looked like CIA issue gray overcoats. Mac had only met Deputy Director Kershaw a few times, but she recognized him straight away. _What the hell could be important enough to get him out here?_

Maybe it was her emotional state, but it was Harm who recognized the third man before she did.

"Webb and his boss," he remarked, dryly. "Why do I get the feeling these two are about to turn our world upside down?"

"I guess we had better get down to the wardroom and find out what they have planned for us now," Mac commented.

On the way to the wardroom Mac and Harm were stopped by the ship's surgeon, Dr, Dixon. After the formalities were exchanged, Dixon handed Mac the results of the battery of tests on the samples.

"I ran the tests twice, ma'am," he began. "When you see the results, you'll understand why."

Mac quickly thumbed through the sheets until she was halfway through the pile. Over her shoulder, Harm was reading along with her.

"Harm, do you see this?"

"This test proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that the sample wasn't taken from Lt. Commander Costa."

"Unless he is pregnant," she added.

...

In the wardroom, CIA Deputy Director Kershaw delivered the briefing. Among those in attendance was Harm's boss, Vice Admiral Blackmore and Harm's XO, Commander Keeter. The CAG, the CO and the three JAG lawyers rounded out the assembly. Presiding over the meeting was Vice Admiral Richards, the task force commander.

Mac sat next to her husband and listened as the DDI described the new evidence which the CIA was allowing to be presented to the North Koreans in response to the question of who fired first.

"The tape you are about to see is still considered Top Secret," began Kershaw. "But, at the urging of the administration we have lowered the classification to Level 1. On 7-June-2005, at approximately 03:35Z, real time footage of the air battle in question was recorded by national technical means. Roll the tape please, Clay."

The lights automatically dimmed as the screen came to life. The tape was a display of multiple video captures, each showing a different aircraft in flight. In the lower left corner of each screen was a time index display and aircraft description.

"Each of these video capture screens is displaying each aircraft which was involved in the engagement. At 03:39 and 15 seconds, aircraft number 735, a Chinese built MIG-29, opened fire on the squadron launched from the _Patrick Henry_, being the first aircraft in the engagement to do so. There is no question, the other side fired first. The President has authorized me to present this to the North Korean delegation, and send them on their way. Captain Ingles, they will be off your ship by tomorrow, midday."

"Not nearly soon enough," piped Ingles.

"Director Kershaw," began Harm. "Will the CIA allow this film to be considered as evidence at the Court Martial of Commanders Skunzia and Costa?"

"We have no objection as long as the records of these proceeding are sealed. The question of allowing it into evidence is of course Admiral Richards's decision."

"I have no objection," replied Richards.

"With all due respect, Admiral," interjected Krennick. "This evidence doesn't completely exonerate the defendants. The matter of whether Lt. Commander Costa was impaired while operating a military aircraft is the primary concern here. The conspiracy charge had nothing to do with who fired first."

"I agree, counselor," replied Richards. "However, the blood and urine screening would never have been pulled had there not been a question of who fired first. I'm going to allow it into evidence. The members will consider whether it is relevant."

"Admiral, if I may interject something here," began Harm.

"Proceed, Captain."

"Thank you, sir. Colonel MacKenzie and I just uncovered some new evidence pertaining to the sample testing and what we found might also be of interest to the CIA." He turned to Mac and indicated for her to continue, "Colonel?"

"As part of preparing a defense for our clients, I asked the ship's Chief Medical Officer to run a series of tests on the samples obtained from Lt. Commander Costa. Part of the scope for testing the sample was to retest the blood type and cross matching, as well as the blood alcohol content. Since DNA analysis was not an available option, at my request, Lt. Commander Dixon performed every other test he had available to him. One of those tests was hormone levels. This is a test normally used to determine pregnancy in a female patient…"

"Where exactly are you going with this, Colonel?" asked Richards.

"Bear with me Admiral, I'm getting there. The test results showed highly elevated levels of estrogen and progesterone, which would be consistent with pregnancy."

"Are you trying to tell me that Commander Costa is…with child?" asked the Admiral, incredulously.

"No, sir," replied Mac. "Since Lt. Commander Michael Costa is a man, these samples obviously didn't come from him. That leaves only one possibility; the samples were exchanged for someone else's, someone who has the same blood type."

Director Kershaw cleared his throat. "Colonel MacKenzie," he began. "Captain Rabb just stated that this information would be of interest to the agency. So far I don't see how."

"After Commander Dixon gave me the test results, I had him pull the both the personnel jacket and medical records for the corpsman who performed the tests. The corpsman in question is Petty Officer First Class Tina Park. A quick review of her medical records shows that she has the same blood type as Lt. Commander Costa."

"Isn't this a bit of a reach, Colonel?" inquired Kershaw.

"Yes, Director, it is, unless you consider Petty Officer Park's family history. She is South Korean, sir, but her paternal grandfather is a citizen of the North. She lived with him until she became a teenager and relocated to the South."

"This is all circumstantial evidence, Colonel," stated Richards.

"It gives us enough evidence to ask for a DNA confirmation on the blood sample which allegedly belongs to Commander Costa, but I suspect we have a more expedient way to prove this. If that blood sample did come from Petty Officer Park, then she is still pregnant. She hasn't been off the ship in six weeks and wouldn't have had the time or opportunity to terminate her pregnancy. A blood test will confirm or discount our suspicions."

"This could confirm something else we've suspected for some time," said Webb, speaking for the first time. "We had some intel reports which indicated there might be sleeper agents embedded in our own, or the South Korean forces. None of these reports had panned out, until now."

Captain Ingles stood and walked over to the growler phone. He picked up the receiver had cranked the handle.

"This is the Captain. Get the Master at Arms on the line." His voice was ice cold and anyone in the room could tell that he wasn't pleased. A few seconds later he continued, "Chief, I want you to assemble a small team. Find and detain Petty Officer Tina Park. She's a corpsman assigned to the medical section. Hold her in the brig until further notice."

...

"Hello Sarah," said Webb, seizing an opportunity to speak with her alone while her husband and Commander Keeter conferred with their boss. _I'm not looking forward to this,_ she thought.

"Hello Clay, it's been a while."

"When you said you needed time, I didn't expect you to run off and marry Rabb, Sarah."

"I never told you I needed time. I told you it was over. And I didn't just run off and marry Harm. I took some time for myself. You know, it was almost a year before I had my head on straight."

"We were good together, Sarah. We would have made a great team."

"That was part of the problem, Clay. We were never a team. If we were, I would have known that you were still alive instead of being led to believe you had drowned off the coast of Indonesia. Do you have any idea how hard that was? Any idea at all?"

"I never meant to hurt you…"

"But you did," she said, interrupting him. "You betrayed my trust, you lied to me." Despite the subject matter, her voice held nothing but empathy. She wanted him to know what she was feeling without being accusatory.

She paused for a moment to calm her voice. She looked over at her husband noticing he was still in deep conversation with his boss. A moment later, she turned her attention back to Clay.

"I've had the chance to evaluate a lot of things in my life. Being alone for a year helped to put things in perspective and I decided that I couldn't live in the covert world that you thrive on. We weren't and we aren't good for each other. You brought out things in me which quite frankly, I don't like about myself. I was playing with fire. If anything, being with you showed me what I didn't want. Please, Clay, don't make this any harder than it has to be, okay?"

"It's strange, that's not what you told me while we were in Paraguay."

"Neither one of us was thinking straight while we were in Paraguay, Clay. To be honest with you I never expected to get out of there alive. Do you even realize how damn lucky we both are?"

"Yeah, lucky that Rabb came riding in on his white horse. That's real lucky," he said, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"That's not fair, Clay, in fact, that's cruel! You know something else, that's the difference between your would and mine. In your world, if someone gets left out in the cold, well too bad. At least in my world, we don't leave our own to be tortured and killed without a second thought. And if it hadn't been for Harm risking everything he was, and everything he had, you and I would be dead. You owe him your life, and so do I," she snapped back, her voice starting to get louder.

"I loved you, Sarah. I wanted you with me. To be truthful, I already suspected Rabb would follow us down as soon as he learned where you were. I was counting on it. I just had to leave enough clues for him to follow. I expected him to arrive much sooner than he did."

"What! You son of a bitch!" she hissed in barely concealed anger. "You brought me into that mission when you were already emotionally compromised by own desire to possess me, and then you compound it by dragging the man I cared for, no, the man I loved into the trap. What were you looking for, Webb? Were you hoping that something would happen to Harm and you could have me all to yourself? Was that what you were planning?"

"Sarah, please," Clay said, trying to appease her. "Of course I didn't want that! Harm is my friend too." He reached for her arms, but she forcefully pushed him away.

"Don't touch me!" she hissed again. "If this is how you treat your friends, I don't want any part of it. What are we to you, Clay, cannon fodder? You damn near got us killed while we were searching for Harm's father; you put us both in danger with the embassy debacle; you put all of us at risk in Paraguay, including the Gunny; not to mention that stunt you pulled last year by faking your own death."

"I have a dirty business, you know that."

"Yeah, well I don't want any part of it! When Simon had that gun to my head, I was afraid, not for myself, but I was so afraid that Harm was going to see him blow my brains out, or I was going to see it done to him. Do you have any idea what that would have done to him, or to me? Do you even care?"

"You know better than to even ask that question," he said, the fight clearly gone from his voice. "And you don't have to worry about being recruited for this mission, you're not a pilot."

"Mac, are you all right," said Harm, appearing by her side and nodding to Webb.

"I'll see you later, Rabb," said Webb. "Sarah," he added as he walked away.

She felt herself being turned and she looked into her husband's eyes. Behind him she saw that the room was empty. _When did everyone leave? Did anyone over hear us?_

"Harm, just get me out of here," she said, her voice empty and distant.


	15. Truth

**Chapter 14:**

**14:45 ZULU**

**Officer's Berthing Compartment, USS Patrick Henry**

Together they quickly traversed the endless passageways through the bowels of the ship. She hadn't let go of his hand since their hasty exit from the wardroom. In the nine years he had known her, Harm had only seen his wife this frazzled a handful of times, and in those times, they had both been in grave danger.

_Whatever Webb had said to her must have really pushed her buttons,_ he thought.

Instinctively, Harm knew they were heading back to their cabin, although she was taking the long way, probably due to the fact she was wearing heels. He chose not to engage her in conversation until they were behind closed doors. At times like this her mood could be precarious at best.

When they reached their quarters she just about pulled him in with her and briskly shut the hatch. Before he could speak she was clinging to him for dear life. When he reached to return her affection, he realized just how badly she was shaking; worse now, than when she had awakened from the nightmare the previous evening.

"Sarah, are you all right?"

"No, Harm, I'm not. Just hold me for a while."

Harm complies, knowing that she needed the same thing the other night. He returns to communicating with her by gently stroking her hair, caressing her neck, or sliding his hands along the arch of her back. He feels her mirroring his ministrations as her body begins to calm itself. He can feel her heartbeat, which was running into overdrive when they first embraced, now slowing to a pace much closer to normal.

"Please tell me you're not flying a mission for Webb," she said. The tone of her voice let him know just how fragile her emotions were. He didn't want to upset her, but he had promised himself never to tell her a lie.

"Twenty four hours from now," he began. "It's a joint CIA and Naval Intelligence operation. That's why my boss is here."

He felt her tense up again as she asked, "You can't talk about it, can you?"

"I don't know any of the details, yet. The mission briefing will be tomorrow, midday. Admiral Blackmore wants you there as well."

She pulled away suddenly and looked at him, not out of fear, but looking more surprised.

"He does? Why?"

"He wants input as to the legality and possible ramifications of this mission."

"He can get that from you, flyboy, why does he need me?"

"I'm one of the pilots flying the mission," replied Harm. "Admiral Blackmore wants a fair and independent assessment from someone who isn't in his chain of command. Besides, this brings you into the loop."

"How did the Admiral get Kershaw to agree to that," she asked. Harm noticed that she seemed to have regained her composure.

"Naval intelligence being involved had something to do with it. The other plus is Kershaw trusts you, well, at least as much as he would trust any outsider."

She pulled herself back into his embrace and he held tightly to her. He wanted to take all her fears away, but he knew this was something he could never do. All he had left was his unwavering love, something he showed her whenever he had the chance. _So much lost time,_ he thought.

"Tell me what happened with Webb," he finally asked.

Slowly she pulls away so he can see her face. Mac begins to recount everything that was said. It wasn't much, and the conversation had gone downhill quickly. When she got to the part about accusing Webb wanting him out of the way, Harm pressed a finger to her lips.

"Sarah, Honey, I don't think even Webb would be that devious. You told me yourself, if it hadn't been for Gunny being held, you wouldn't have even gone back there.

"I know, I probably shouldn't have said that, but that wasn't the first time he's put us in peril without full disclosure, and that's not the worst of it. By teaming up with someone he was attracted to, he compromised the entire mission. Harm, I'm tired of being used by these people to do their dirty work by playing spookster or secret agent man. You and I are military officers, not field agents. Both Webb and that other ass-hole he was working with were going to leave Gunny behind. The only reason Webb came along is because he was sweet on me. Not much of a reason, huh?"

"Hell, Mac, I wouldn't have let you go alone either."

"I know, but there is a difference, you wouldn't have come with me as my partner not just for the sake of protecting me, regardless of how we felt about each other."

When Sarah finished telling him the story he shook his head, "You must have been really pissed at him, Mac."

"I didn't mean for things to get so out of hand. It's just that…all this came out in my dream the other night. I'm still trying to make sense of it." She shrugged her shoulders in resignation.

"Well, I think we should try to get some sleep. We both have a very busy day tomorrow. Do you want your own rack tonight…"

"No," she said immediately, a bit more forceful than she intended. "I don't sleep well when you're not next to me."

Sleeping two to a rack would have been cramped had it not been for the fact that they cuddled so close together. She had only hit the pillow for a few seconds before Harm realized that she had drifted off to sleep.

"Goodnight, Sarah," he whispered. "I love you."

...

**22:00 ZULU**

**Wardroom, USS Patrick Henry, 200 miles east of the Korean DMZ**

Admiral Richards had met with both the defense and prosecution just prior to calling the Court Martial back into session. Captain Krennick had been willing to concede and recommend a dismissal of all charges, in light of the new evidence; however, the SECNAV and SECDEF had decided to allow this new evidence to come out in open court, with the North Korean delegation in attendance.

"This should send them back home with their tail between their legs," the SECNAV had said. "Those bastards knew all along what they were doing."

"Well the truth will be out shortly, Mr. Secretary," commented Rabb.

"You're damn straight it about that, Captain. I want you and Colonel MacKenzie to put that lying North Korean son of a bitch on the stand and twist his tail but good."

"I assume you are referring to the pilot, sir."

"Lt. Sung, or whatever the hell his name is…"

"That would be Lt. Lee, Mr. Secretary. North Korean custom puts the family name first," said Harm.

"I really don't give a rat's ass about insulting him right now, Captain! Just put him on the stand and clean his clock!"

"Yes, Mr. Secretary."

Harm had been a little more than concerned about his wife after her conversation with Webb and he expected her sleep to be fraught with more bad memories from the ordeal in Paraguay. While he did hear her talking at one point, she did remain within the realm of slumber. When morning came, she seemed to have pushed beyond the incident, as she greeted him with slightly more affection than she would, considering where they were.

Between them, they decided to have him question the North Korean pilot and deliver the _Coup de Grace_ courtesy of the SECNAV.

...

"So Lt. Lee, it is your testimony, that you did not fire your weapons until you had been fired upon by Lt. Commander Costa, is that correct?"

"Yes, Captain Rabb," replied the North Korean pilot. "The lead American aircraft fired first."

"I see," said Rabb, as he rounded the defense table and approached the witness stand. "I'd like to call both yours, and the court's attention to the monitor."

Harm pushed the remote control, lowering the lights and bringing up a still photograph of a MIG-29 in flight. With a laser pointer, he indicated the number stenciled on the side of the airframe.

"Lt. Lee. Can you read off this identifying number for the court?"

"Yes Captain, it is number seven-thirty-five. Where did you get this photograph?"

"Lt. Lee, if you please, I will ask the questions," rebutted Rabb. "Would you please tell the court the airframe number of the aircraft you were flying on the date in question?"

"Number seven-thirty-five, Captain."

"So you would agree that this is a still image of the aircraft you were flying on the morning of the incident."

"It appears to be."

"Your Honor, I would like to enter a copy of this still frame into evidence as defense exhibit five," said Harm, handing the Admiral a copy of the still frame.

Rabb manipulated the remote until the screen pulled back to reveal the other aircraft in the multi screen capture. "Your Honor, if it pleases the court, I would like to enter this tape into evidence as defense exhibit number six. Due to its sensitive nature relating to national security, I would like this evidence classified and sealed along with the remainder of these proceedings."

"So ordered," said the Admiral.

"Thank you, Your Honor. I would like to call the witness's attention to the video on the monitor. This was taken by a classified asset which was operating near the incident on the date in question. Although the tape starts at 03:30 Zulu, on 7-June-2005, I would like to play it in slow motion from 03:35 Zulu."

Harm played the recording in slow motion until he saw the first aircraft open fire. Freezing the tape at that point, he zoomed in on the aircraft in question.

"Lt. Lee. Can you identify this aircraft?"

The North Korean pilot remained silent, but his face became covered in rage. Harm was about to ask the Admiral to intercede when Richards himself broke the silence.

"The witness will answer the question."

Lee snapped his head to look at the Admiral, then turned back to face Rabb.

"This tape is a trick," he said, his voice laced with hatred. "It's a fake. The American fired first!"

"No it's not, Lieutenant. You fired first, didn't you?"

"I refuse to answer any more questions!"

"That's fine, Lieutenant," said Rabb, his own disgust now evident. "Your Honor, I have no further questions for this witness."

Richards turned to Krennick, "Do you wish to cross examine?"

Alison stood and replied, "I have no questions for this witness, Your Honor."

"Very well, the witness may step down."

At the defense table, Mac leaned over to her partner and whispered quietly, "You enjoyed that, didn't you?"

"Yeah, Mac, I did."

...

A while later Lt. Commander Dixon was on the witness stand as Mac began her line of questioning.

"Commander Dixon, two days ago, you began the task of retesting the blood and urine samples which were allegedly taken from Lt. Commander Costa, is that correct?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"At whose request did you do this?"

"Yours, Colonel MacKenzie."

"Would you explain, for the court, what you found when you performed the hormone level test?"

"Yes ma'am, as I said, at Colonel MacKenzie's request, I ran a complete battery of tests on the samples in question, including tests I would not normally run on a male patient. Checking hormone levels is just such a test as it is normally used to check for pregnancy in a female patient. When I conducted this test, I found elevated levels of estrogen and progesterone, consistent with pregnancy."

"Judging from the levels, Commander, how far along would the patient be?"

"Best guess, Colonel, without knowing the date of the LMP, I would estimate six to eight weeks."

"Commander Dixon, have you ever treated a male patient who has exhibited elevated hormone levels such as this test has indicated?"

"Not personally, ma'am."

"Is there any medical cases in which you are aware, that a man would exhibit such symptoms?"

"Yes ma'am. Elevated estrogen and progesterone levels would be consistent in a patient who is receiving hormone therapy in preparation for a gender alteration procedure."

"By that, you would be referring to a sex change operation, is that correct?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Commander Dixon, based on the hormone levels which were indicated in the test, what other symptoms would you expect to see if in fact this blood sample came from Commander Costa?"

"At these levels, I would expect to see an increase in the patient's breast size, a change in their voice, and a reduction in body hair. There are other changes as well, but these would be the most evident."

"In your examination of Lt. Commander Costa, after the crash, did you observe any of these symptoms?"

"No ma'am, I did not."

"How many years experience do you have as a physician?"

"Almost twenty five years, ma'am, I became a doctor before joining the Navy."

"Based on your years of experience, in your professional opinion, could these samples have come from Lt. Commander Costa?"

"Objection," said Krennick. "Calls for speculation."

"Overruled," said Richards. "Dr. Dixon is testifying as an expert witness. You may answer the question, Commander."

"No Colonel MacKenzie, I don't see how that would be possible."

Mac strolled back to the defense table and picked up several pages. She turned back to the witness stand.

"Commander Dixon, as part of your treatment, you would be required to do a blood type cross match before surgery or any procedure which might require a transfusion. Would you tell the court the purpose for this?"

"Yes, Colonel. A type and cross match is performed as a precautionary procedure to ensure that a patient does not receive the wrong blood type as the result of a clerical error in their records, or a misread or miss-stamped dog tag. As part of that procedure, suitable blood donors aboard ship are identified. Blood donation is of course voluntary."

"Your Honor, before I ask the next question, I would like to submit this document to the court, to be entered into the record. It is a HIPA release form, signed by Lt. Commander Costa."

Admiral Richards took the document and scanned it briefly. "You may continue, Colonel."

"Thank you, Your Honor. Commander Dixon, how many people aboard ship have a blood type compatible with Lt. Commander Costa?"

"Commander Costa has blood type O which is, in medical terms, considered the universal donor. In other words, he would be able to donate blood to anyone on the ship. However, persons with type O blood, can only receive blood from someone else who has type O. On this ship, that would be about twenty percent of the crew."

"And out of those crew members, how many would have had access to the Commander's blood samples?"

"Only one person, ma'am," replied Dixon.

"For the record, Commander, would you identify that person?"

"That would be Petty Officer First Class Tina Park, ma'am."

"Thank you, Commander," she said, before turning to the bench. "Your Honor, I have no further questions at this time, however I do reserve the right to recall this witness at a later date."

"Very well," said the Admiral. He turned to Captain Krennick. "Cross examine?"

"The government has no questions for this witness, Your Honor."

"The witness may step down. We'll take a short recess while the next defense witness is brought forth."

He banged his gavel and retreated from the room.

"Very nicely played, Mac," her husband said to her. "Just this evidence alone gets our clients off the hook."

"Yeah, but now comes the hard part, getting Petty Officer Park to point the finger at her employer. Do you think the deal Kershaw offered her will work?"

"I hope so, for her sake. She's already looking at life in Leavenworth. If it wasn't for the fact that she is pregnant, she'd be facing the death penalty. I wonder if she even knows."

"Somehow I doubt her being with child factored into their plans," she replied.

You know who I really feel for, Mac?"

"Her unborn child?"

Harm just nodded his head. They both knew that this young life was going to be born without a mother and maybe never know who his or her father is. _It's just not fair,_ Mac thought to herself.


	16. Resolutions

**Chapter 15:**

**23:30 ZULU**

**Brig, USS Patrick Henry, 200 miles east of the Korean DMZ**

Getting Petty Officer Park to agree to testify about her actions appeared as if it was going to be problematic, however, once Lt. Commander Dixon had informed her of her condition she seemed to lose her resolve to be uncooperative. To Mac, it seemed like the woman's maternal instincts had taken over.

Kershaw had decided to allow Harm and Mac to interview Park privately in the hopes they could compel her to testify.

"At ease, Petty Officer," said Harm, once the woman's handcuffs had been removed. "Have a seat."

The Petty Officer sat down in front of the Master at Arms' desk, across from Mac. Harm took the seat beside her.

Mac regarded the woman seated next to her husband for a moment. She was about the same age as her own administrative assistant, Petty Officer Coates, but she lacked the self assurance which had been nurtured in Jennifer. In truth, Tina Park looked like a scared little child.

"Petty Officer Park, I'm going to give it to you straight," began Mac. "If you refuse to cooperate, you are looking at a minimum of life in prison. Under the circumstances, the government could seek the death penalty after your child is born."

"What are my options, ma'am." Park's voice came out in almost a tiny plea for help.

"If you cooperate, by telling us everything you know, we can probably get the government to suspend most of the brig time. You will still be looking at a dishonorable discharge and at least ten years at Leavenworth."

"Do I have any time to think about it?" she asked, in a small voice.

"Petty Officer Park," interjected Harm. "You really don't have an option here. Your actions can be prosecuted as treason during a time of war. Remember, an armistice was never signed which means technically, North and South Korea are still at war. As an ally and co-combatant with the South, the wartime stature still is in force."

Park looked down at her hands suddenly placing one of them on her belly. "What will become of my child?"

"Do you know who the father is, Tina," asked Mac, in a compassionate voice.

"A young American businessman," she replied. "I met him while on liberty six weeks ago. We were at a bar together. Started talking, one thing led to another…the next thing I knew, we were driving back to his hotel."

"Do you know his name," asked Harm, "who he worked for…anything that might help us find him?"

"His first name was Mark," replied Tina. "I didn't ask for his full name or, for that matter, anything else about him. I didn't want to know, it was better that way."

"How so?" asked Mac.

"In the game of spy-craft, everything is about secrets, deception, information, killing… I wanted this encounter to just be about the two of us, even if it was only for one night. You can't possibly know what it is like, living a lie…"

As Mac listened to this young woman pouring out her regrets, she felt a resonating chord being struck inside her, reminding her of the day when she heard Clayton Webb welcoming Harm into the brotherhood. At that moment a state of disquiet had settled in her soul and she turned around to leave, not wanting to face what had just happened.

In her mind, Harm had always been above the deceit and skullduggery of the covert intelligence world, and at the time he seemed like he was embracing it. Not that she was any better, as she was developing feelings for a man who was firmly entrenched in this hell. Deep inside her, the part of her that she kept hidden from everyone, she knew she was dancing on a blade which threatened to slice her very being if she made even one misstep. In this same part of her soul resided her unspoken love for Harmon Rabb.

"Mac?"

MacKenzie snapped out of her reverie at the sound of her husband's voice and came back to the present.

"I'm sorry, Petty Officer," she apologized, to the woman in front of her. "I got distracted for a moment. Please, go on."

"I'm ready to make a deal, ma'am."

"Fine, the Captain and I will speak to Mr. Kershaw before we go back to court. I'll have an agreement prepared in writing before you take the stand."

...

On the way back to the wardroom, Harm pulled her aside into one of the secluded passageways.

"Mac, what happened back there? She really got to you, didn't she?"

Sarah thought about trying to evade the question, but she knew her stubborn husband wasn't going to let it go. _Better to get it out in the open,_ she reasoned.

"I admit, some of the things she said set me ill at ease," she offered. "It's just that I haven't been myself, not since that nightmare the other night kicked up some bad memories. I won't even get into the _Positively 4th Street_ moment with Webb last night."

"Wow, MacKenzie, that's deep," he said, adding, "Didn't figure you for a Dylan fan."

"If you only knew…there were so many times…I'd be sitting on a barstool listening to _Knockin' on Heaven's Door_ over and over again while at the same time sipping on a drink which consisted mostly of vodka…getting slowly and completely wasted…trying to forget about the world…about everything I had become…"

She stopped herself mid-sentence after seeing his reaction to raw macabre aspects of her former life. As well as he knew her, and he knew her better than anyone, there were certain things about her past which still took him by surprise.

"Sorry for being so morbid, "she offered. "Are you having any regrets about marrying me?"

"You know better me than that, Sarah," he replied. Slowly, Harm reached out and caressed her cheek. "You've overcome so much in your life, and the more I learn about you, the more I love you."

There were times when she was so overcome with ardor that she wanted to throw herself into his arms. This was becoming one of those times. Instead, she covered her hand with her own, blinking back tears of affection.

"You know, Harm, maybe we should have gone with plan B," she said, shifting the conversation. "The option we discussed back in DC?"

"Hanging up our shingle and open our own law firm?" he asked.

"Yeah, Rabb and Rabb, Attorneys at Law. We could have bought a nice place in the Virginia suburbs with enough space for an attached office. Just think, no more saluting, no more jumping every time the world hiccups, and no more covert missions for the spooks over at Langley. We could make our own hours, sleep in every morning, take romantic getaways every few weekends and maybe we could make good on our baby deal."

"Sarah, we will make good on the baby deal, I promise and I do have to admit, making our own hours and the weekend getaways sound enticing. Instead, we chose to be at the point of the spear, rather than being in court everyday defending murders and Mafioso who belong in prison, or better still, be stuck representing spiteful spouses in divorce settlements," he countered playfully, giving her the full effect of his megawatt smile.

"You're a real killjoy, Harm…I'm sorry, I know you're trying to cheer me up, it's just that…it would be nice once in a while not to have to worry about the world's problems and be able to concentrate on us."

"Would you really be happy that way, Mac? Leaving all of this behind for a nine to five, forty hour week gig? You tried it once, remember?"

"I remember," she replied. The circumstances which had caused her to leave JAG for a cushy office with her name on the door surfaced in her mind. And she remembered just how empty she had felt when she hugged her best friend in the parking lot. The intensity of the sense of loss had been so overpowering that day; it had fully eclipsed her feelings towards Dalton and eventually led to her return to JAG.

"Maybe I'm thinking about just staying home like Harriet and become a full time wife and mother. Suddenly the idea isn't as frightening as it was a few months ago. The one thing I'm sure of is, I want is you in my life and by my side. Everything else is negotiable."

"I think I can live with that."

...

Securing partial immunity from prosecution for Petty Officer Park took some doing. When Captain Krennick had learned of the treasonous actions taken by the corpsman, she took it as a personal affront. As a result, General Cresswell needed to step in and almost order Alison to play ball. As a consolation, Cresswell placed the prosecution of the two additional agents into her hands.

Harm really couldn't blame her for how she felt. Despite her personal flaws, he knew Alison Krennick was a patriot, and if it hadn't been for the fact that Park possessed information vital to national security, he would have sided with Krennick.

Rabb didn't buy the sob story which Petty Officer Park had fed his wife and attributed Mac's sympathy of the situation, to her own history with the agency. Years ago, he would have called her out on it and they would have argued intensely over something that, in the final analysis, was frivolous at best. As a man who dearly loved his wife, he was becoming much more choosey in which battles he was willing to engage with her.

"All rise."

The bailiff's call for attention brought him back to the present and he watched Admiral Richards take his place. He banged the gavel once and called the proceedings to order.

Petty Officer Park was called to the witness stand, and Captain Krennick swore her in. Beside him, Mac stood to begin her line of questioning.

"Petty Officer, would you state your name, rate, and current assignment for the record, please?"

"Yes, ma'am, Petty Officer First Class Tina Park United States Navy, corpsman, assigned to the _USS Patrick Henry_ Medical section."

"How long have you held this position, Petty Officer?"

"Eighteen months, ma'am," replied Park.

"Your Honor, I would like to enter this document into the record at this time," said Mac, proffering a form in front of her. She handed the sheet to the judge and continued. "This document is a guarantee of partial immunity from prosecution in return for testimony and other considerations. It has been co-signed by the witness, defense counsel, the DDI, and by the current FJA for the Asian Theater."

Admiral Richards quickly scanned through the document and looked up at Krennick.

"I take it the government is agreeable to this, counsel?"

"We are, Your Honor."

The Admiral looked over to Petty Officer Park.

"Petty Officer Park, do you completely understand the consequences and ramifications of your testimony and that you are waiving both your Article 31 as well as your 5th Amendment rights as stated in this document?"

"I do, Your Honor."

"Very well, Colonel MacKenzie, you may proceed."

"Thank you, Your Honor." Mac turned her attention back to the woman on the stand. "Petty Officer Park, on the morning of 7-June-2013, you were tasked to retrieve blood and urine samples from Lt. Commander Costa, is this correct?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Would you explain the procedure for the court?"

"Yes, ma'am. Obtaining a blood sample is straight forward. We usually grab a vein near the surface of the skin, opposite the knee or elbow. This can be done regardless of the conscious state of the patient."

"And the urine sample?"

"If the patient is conscious, it is only a matter of having them relieve themselves into a container. If the patient is unconscious, we would need to do a catheterization."

"Is this the procedure used on Lt. Commander Costa, on the morning in question?"

"It was ma'am."

"Tell us what you did next, Petty Officer."

"After I retrieved the samples, I was supposed to tag them with the case labels provided. Once tagged, I took them down to the lab to run the ordered tests."

"These sample tags, Petty Officer. Is there anything special about them?"

"Yes ma'am. They have a control number which matches the request form which becomes part of a patient's chart and record. The control numbers are sequential and unique to each form."

Isn't it true, that a medical sample is required to be tagged as soon as it has been acquired?"

"Yes ma'am."

"And was that procedure followed?"

"No ma'am. The samples I tagged were not the samples taken from Lt. Commander Costa."

"Where did those samples come from, Petty Officer?"

"They came from me, ma'am. The blood and urine samples are mine."

A roll of murmurs fell over the wardroom and Richards banged his gavel once for order.

"We will have no further outbursts from the gallery. "Colonel MacKenzie, please continue."

"Yes, Your Honor," said Mac. "Petty Officer Park, would you please tell the court what prompted you to take these actions?"

"Last week, I received a letter from my hander, an agent who works in California posing as a family member. Contained in the letter was an encrypted message which instructed me to execute my part of the plan, which was to plant evidence which would implicate the squadron leader."

"Petty Officer Park, how did you know that Lt. Commander Costa would be leading the squadron on the day of the attack?"

"I didn't ma'am, but I was told that aspect of the mission had already been arraigned."

Park's testimony suddenly grabbed Harm's attention. It was something he hadn't considered before. Park had identified two additional agents who had subsequently been taken into custody but if she was telling the truth, there was another unaccounted agent on board. He looked back up to Mac, surprised to see her looking his way. Harm pointed to his watch and she nodded her head.

"Your Honor, at this time I would like to request a short recess to confer with counsel?"

The Admiral turned his attention to Krennick, "Any objections?"

"No Your Honor," she replied.

"Very well, twenty minute recess."

...

On the way out of the wardroom Harm signaled for Keeter to join them. The three of them made their way to the CAG's office which was a short distance away. Once inside, Harm turned to his wife. "If she is telling the truth, we may have at least one more deep cover agent on board."

"The two agents she identified. Are we sure they aren't the missing link here?"

"I don't think so, Colonel," said Keeter. "Whoever it is would have to have access to the flight schedules. That puts our mole in the air wing."

"The pilots?" asked Mac.

"I doubt it, Mac," said Harm. "Those guys depend on each other too much, and we can rule out the CAG as well. He's got too many years in."

"Maybe we are looking at this the wrong way," said Keeter. "Let's approach it from the enemy point of view. If I were them, how would I coordinate an attack on a single aircraft so an agent back on the ship can frame them for intoxicated operation when they land?"

"A transponder?" offered Harm.

"If that is the case," Mac began, "he or she would need to have access to the aircraft."

"The plane captain," said Keeter. "He is responsible for the final checkout of the aircraft and he would be the last guy into the electronics package."

"It makes sense," said Harm. He turned to his wife. "Mac, Jack and I will follow this up. When you go back to the wardroom, have Kershaw and Webb meet us on the hanger deck. The nose of that F-18 was fairly intact and I'm willing to bet the transponder is still in it."

...

Mac arrived at the wardroom just as the Admiral was returning to the bench.

"Colonel MacKenzie," he said, before bringing the room to order. "Where is your co-counsel?"

"Your Honor, Captain Rabb was called away to address another matter, but the defense is ready to proceed."

"Very well, Colonel."

The Admiral rapped his gavel and brought the court to order.

"Colonel MacKenzie, do you have any more questions for Petty Officer Park?"

"No Your Honor," she replied. "If it pleases the court, in light of the evidence provided by Petty Officer Park, the defense would at this time like to entertain a motion for dismissal of all charges against our clients."

"I tend to agree," said the Admiral. "Does the government have any objections?"

Alison Krennick stood and faced the Admiral.

"The government has no objections, Your Honor."

"Very well, this Court Martial stands adjourned."

After shaking hands with her clients, Mac turned to find Alison Krennick waiting to speak with her.

"Congratulations, Colonel," she said to Mac, offering her hand. "That was quite a piece of investigative work."

"Thank you, Captain," replied Mac.

"Please, call me Alison." Krennick offered.

"My friends call me Mac, short for MacKenzie."

"Is that what Harm calls you?"

"Most of the time," said Mac. "He only calls me Sarah when he's being serious."

"Well, Mac, I should apologize to you for my attitude over the past few days. I was angry with your husband and I let myself take that anger out on you. It was uncalled for…I guess I've been holding a grudge for ten years…it was good to clear the air."

"I know what you mean. It eats at you after a while."

"Yes, it does. So, tell me, do you and Harm always work this well together?"

"Yeah, when he lets me do the talking," she chuckled. In a more serious vein she added, "Despite our differences, and we've had a few, we've always managed to work things out. I guess it was fate."

"You're a very lucky woman, Mac," said Alison, looking at her watch. "Look, I need to see the Captain; I just wanted to wish both of you the best."

"Thank you, Alison, that's very kind of you."

The two women shook hands once again and Krennick walked out of the room. _Well, that was unexpected,_ she thought. _Maybe Harm was right after all._


	17. Preflight

**Chapter 16:**

**00:30 ZULU**

**Hanger Deck, USS Patrick Henry, 200 miles east of the Korean DMZ**

The remains of the F-18 Hornet were spread across an isolated section of the hanger deck allowing the flight mishap investigation team to piece together the cause of the accident. Commander Daigle was about to wrap up her investigation when the DDI informed her of a possible twist in the incident.

"The investigation team is focusing on the nose section," the DDI said to Rabb and Keeter. "If there is something there that shouldn't be, Commander Daigle will find it."

"I take it you've worked with her before," commented Rabb, sardonically.

"Beverly Daigle is regular Navy, but sometimes she moonlights for us," said Kershaw. "Just like Jack here. You remember one of the planes you flew for us, Captain."

"How could I forget," replied Rabb. The Aurora had been the most advanced aircraft, Harm had ever flown. It's Pulse-wave Detonation engines drove the air-breathing aircraft to speeds over Mach 6. He had only flown the hypersonic jet twice in his time with the company; the first time was a training flight which had evolved into a tactical mission over North Korea. He suspected that the company now had routine operations in that denied airspace to keep tabs on the unfolding situation.

"During her maiden flight, the prototype developed some irregularities," continued Kershaw. "Problems which threatened to derail the entire program. If it wasn't for Beverly's tenacity in locating and correcting the problem, a replacement airframe would have never been built."

Beverly Daigle was a petite woman and at five feet, Rabb towered over her. She wore her flame red locks in a tight bun at the nape of her neck. An infectious smile and inviting pair of green eyes completed the picture. Her age was difficult to nail down. As a Commander, Rabb knew she had to be at least Mac's age, although his wife had been fast tracked to Lt. Colonel by Chegwidden soon after he left JAG to return to flying.

What amused Harm the most, was watching his XO being slowly entranced by this woman. Jack Keeter had been single long enough to be considered a confirmed bachelor although Harm once thought he had his eye on Mac. _Jack would have treated her a hell of a lot better than Bugme,_ he thought.

"Found it," came Daigle's voice from behind a piece of wreckage. With prize in hand she rounded the nose section of the dismembered aircraft and laid the device on the table.

"That looks like the IFF transponder," said Keeter."

"It is," replied Daigle. "But this one has been tampered with. Look closely at the seal."

The group gathered around as she pointed out the discrepancy.

"These devices are normally adjusted and bench tested by one of the avionics electronics technicians assigned to the air wing," Daigle narrated. "Once the device has been adjusted, an evidence seal is placed on the cover so it has to be broken should the cover be removed for any reason. If the seal is broken, the device has to be sent back to the cal lab to be retested."

"Go on, Beverly," said Kershaw.

"Again, look closely at this seal," she continued. "Right at the edge here, you can see where this seal is covering the remains of one which had been broken."

"Maybe it went back to the cal lab and the technician didn't remove all of the previous tag," said Harm.

"I would buy that if the new seal had the correct prefix code. It should read AET which stands for Avionics Electronics Technician. Instead this one reads PC, short for Plane Captain."

"Wouldn't this had been caught in preflight?" asked Harm.

"Two problems with that, Captain," said Keeter. "The plane captain probably did the preflight, and even if he didn't, most people wouldn't bother to read the seal. The print is too small. Once the module is installed you would only be able to tell that the unit is sealed, not who sealed it."

"CAG, who was Tuna's plane captain?" asked Harm.

"Petty Officer First Class Bruce Miller," replied Carlson. "The Master at Arms has already detained him for questioning. If the Old Man finds another spy on his ship, he's going to go apeshit."

"He's not the only one," added Kershaw. The DDI turned his attention back to Daigle. "Nice work, Beverly. You know, that full time position with the company is still open, that is, if you want it."

"Thanks, Director Kershaw, I'll remember that, but, I kinda' like where I'm at right now. It's the best of both worlds."

While Keeter remained behind with Webb and Daigle, Rabb, Carlson and the DDI made their way to the brig. On the way, they were joined by Colonel MacKenzie.

"How did we do," he asked his wife confidentially.

"As expected," she replied, "Dismissal on all charges. Krennick even offered an olive branch."

"I told you she mellowed after we cleared the air."

"Strange, first Vukovic turns over a new leaf and now Krennick is making nice. There must be a break in the space-time continuum."

"What about our North Korean guests?" asked Harm.

"They'll be on the next COD to Seoul. The Skipper was barely civil to them when he passed on the news."

"I can't say I blame him for that."

"You know what's really strange, Harm?" she commented. "General Kim and his party seemed rather anxious to get off the ship. You don't suppose that means anything, do you?"

"With everything which has happened so far, I wouldn't discount anything."

...

Petty Officer Miller turned out to be the ringleader of the group aboard the _Patrick Henry_. Unlike Petty Officer Park, Miller was tightlipped, refusing to offer anything.

"Captain, Colonel," began the arrogant young sailor. "You don't have anything except for circumstantial evidence. And that's not going to fly with a charge of treason. I don't need to be a lawyer to know that. The most you could get me on is failure to follow procedures."

"You willing to bet your life on that, Petty Officer," replied Mac, taking a hard line. "Not only can your actions be considered treason during time of war; but you also compromised the safety of the entire flight. If Lt. Gingell doesn't pull through, you're looking at negligent homicide."

"Son, if this matter goes to trial you will lose," added Kershaw, who had spoken for the first time. "I'm offering you a chance to save your skin. If you play ball, you might even avoid confinement."

"What, by being a spook for you?" snapped Miller. "Forget it. I'll take my chances at Court Martial."

"Think about this long and hard," Rabb offered. "The IFF transponder is being examined by an expert right now. And your fingerprints are all over that box. Even if the treason charge doesn't fly, the Colonel and I have enough evidence to put you away for life at hard labor."

He paused a moment before punctuating his point.

"How old are you, Petty Officer?"

"Twenty five, sir."

"Twenty five," began Rabb. "Let's see, the average male lifespan is what eighty years? That means you'll spend the next fifty plus years breaking big rocks into small rocks. It's not a pleasant prospect, Petty Officer."

Harm watched as the young sailor looked down at the table. _Come on Petty Officer Miller, don't be a fool,_ he thought.

"How can I avoid brig time? You didn't make that offer to Petty Officer Park," asked Miller.

"Petty Officer Park will have no use in an intel role," replied the DDI. "Depending on the information you give us, you may be of some help. Not knowing what you have to offer, I'm willing to broker the same deal we gave to Park, but only if you spill right now."

Miller nodded his head and the DDI switched on the recorder. Miller took a deep breath and continued.

"I didn't do this for any political reasons," he began. "For me, it was all about money. A year ago I was on liberty in Seoul when two guys approached me. They started asking me about my job on the carrier, nothing classified and nothing you couldn't read in the paper. At first, I thought they were South Korean Intelligence, so I was careful what I said."

"Go on," Mac prodded.

"Bottom line is, Colonel, I got into some gambling trouble. I'm a Black Jack addict and I started running up some heavy losses. Before I knew it, I owed this one guy in Seoul almost ten grand. He told me that if I didn't pay up, he'd have his associates in the states go after my family."

"Why didn't you go to your CO, Petty Officer," asked Rabb.

"And get brig time for breaking the regs, sir?"

"It's better than betraying your country, Petty Officer," said Mac. "You would have been facing disciplinary action and possible severance, but you wouldn't be looking at life."

"Addicts don't think straight, ma'am, but I don't suppose you would know anything about that."

"More than you know, Petty Officer," she replied. "Tell us more about these agents."

Over the next hour, Petty Officer Miller had given Kershaw enough information to root out the rest of the spy ring, including two agents stateside and four more in South Korea. One of the two men who had recruited Miller was none other than Lt. Colonel Yuan, General Kim's assistant.

...

"I figured him for an intel agent," Harm said to Mac as they made their way to the mission briefing. "He didn't say two words the whole time he was aboard, and he listened to everything."

When she didn't respond he pressed, "Mac, you okay?"

She snapped out of her thoughts and suddenly gave him her full attention. "I'm sorry Harm, what did you say?"

Harm pulled her into an alcove where they could speak privately. "All right Mac, talk to me," he said. "That's the third time today you've been out of it. What's bothering you?"

Initially, her first response was to bluff her way out of the conversation. A discussion she didn't want to, or more to the point, was afraid to have. But she looked down at her wedding set, remembering the promises they had made the day they married.

"I have a very bad feeling about this mission, Harm. No matter what I try to do, I can't seem to shake it. I just wish I was going with you."

"Honey, you know CNAF would never go for that, besides, I have a feeling our buddy Webb has dibs on my backseat. Did you see those two crates they brought on board with them?"

"I did," she replied. "What do you think they are? Weapons?"

Harm shook his head, "Intelligence gathering package," he offered. "They take the place of the weapons bay on the aircraft, replacing the missiles with elint, IR, and photographic reconnaissance capability."

"No missiles?" she asked. "What will you use for self defense?"

"The aircraft will have a full load of twenty mike, mike. And Jack will be covering my six."

Knowing that Harm wasn't going up alone gave her a very small measure of comfort.

"Look, Mac," said Harm, reaching to touch her face. "I'm not going to lie to you. From what little I know, this sounds like a dangerous mission. But I've flown in much more dangerous situations, we both have, and we both came through it okay. We've got to have faith."

She offered a reticent smile, her fears put aside, at least for now. "Come on, flyboy, we don't want to be late for that briefing."

...

"The code name for this sortie is Foe-Hammer," said Admiral Blackmore. "This is to be considered a Top Secret Level Two operation. Captain Rabb, you will be flying the reconnaissance bird with Special Agent Webb in your back seat. Commander Keeter, since you will cover the Captain's six, you will be carrying a full air to air combat load. The remainder of the briefing will be given by Deputy Director Kershaw."

Mac watched the two men switch places at the lectern. She had spent the last hour going over the briefing package given to her by Kershaw. The mission was riskier than she had originally thought it would be.

"Thank you, Admiral," began the DDI. "Almost two years ago, Captain Rabb flew an SR-73 mission over North Korea, on an intelligence gathering mission…"

"Excuse me, Director," interjected Mac. "What is an SR-73?"

"Care to field that one, Captain?" asked Kershaw.

Mac glanced at her husband who looked decidedly uncomfortable as he swallowed a lump in his throat.

"Sure," he replied, still looking a bit sheepish. "The SR-73 isn't just an upgraded Blackbird. It is a completely redesigned aircraft better known as the Aurora, a hypersonic reconnaissance aircraft, capable of flying in excess of six times the speed of sound. The engines use a Pulse Wave Detonation…"

"You flew the Aurora? I didn't think that aircraft existed," she interrupted.

"Sorry, Mac, it was classified."

"And that is why Harm isn't allowed to talk about it," interjected Kershaw. "You've been involved in more than a few covert operations, Colonel. You know how the game is played. Your husband is one of only seven people who have flown this aircraft. Outside the agency or Lockheed Martian, less than fifty people know if its existence. The only reason I'm bringing you in the loop on this is the Aurora is going to be an integral part of this op."

_I thought Harm was flying a Raptor,_ she thought to herself.

"At 15:00 Zulu, two Raptors will depart from the _USS Patrick Henry_ and rendezvous with a squadron of Hornets bound for the South Korean coast. Fifty miles from the coast, Rabb and Keeter will switch to full stealth mode, break formation, and drop to within two hundred feet of the deck. They will head north, staying fifty miles offshore until they reach Waypoint Alpha, two miles south of the Chinese border. At that point, Captain Rabb will execute a ninety degree left turn and approach the coast at a point one mile south of the border. He and Commander Keeter will continue inland skirting the border, all while maintaining an AGL of two hundred feet."

"What are the Rules of Engagement, Director?" asked Keeter. "If I'm flying cover, I need to know when I can shoot back."

"At this point, the ROE is do not fire unless fired upon. You will be notified by data-link should those orders change during the mission."

Mac could see that Jack wasn't happy with that arrangement and to be honest, neither was she. Her attention was diverted when Kershaw spoke again.

"Just before Rabb and Keeter cross the beach an SR-73, piloted by two CIA operatives, will enter North Korean airspace just north of Pyongyang. Before they cross the beach, they have been ordered to slow to Mach 3 and allow themselves to be tracked by enemy SAMs. This flight profile will lead the North to believe we are using an SR-71 for this flight."

"Director Kershaw," began Harm. "The last time I tried to slow the SR-73 at altitude, the aircraft suffered an un-start issue with the engines. If that happens over Pyongyang, the crew won't have a chance of getting them restarted before a missile takes them out. Hell, Andy and I almost didn't make it, sir."

"The flight management firmware has been upgraded since the last time you flew the aircraft, Harm, in fact, it was the data from your flight which allowed us to fine tune the auto-throttle software routines."

"Glad I could help," said Harm, sardonically, only so his wife could hear him. "Who's going to be flying your bird?" he asked aloud.

"Andrew Watson will be piloting and Beth O'Neil is his backseater."

"_Commander_ Beth O'Neil?" asked Mac."

"Correct, Colonel," replied Kershaw. "She's no longer with the Navy and has been with us for some time now. The idea is for O'Neil and Watson to draw the enemy attention away from the Chinese border. With any luck, Captain Rabb will be able to slip in undetected and collect to intelligence we need."

Captain Rabb was about to pose another question when Kershaw preempted him.

"You're going to ask why we don't just use the SR-73 to gather the intel we need."

"The question did cross my mind, sir."

"The area in question seems to have the same type of tunnels we discovered two years ago. Only difference is, our sensing equipment isn't penetrating the ground like it was previously able to. That means, the Chinese, or the North Koreans are using some type of shielding to mask their operations. We can counter for it, but it means executing a low level surveillance op. The only aircraft in our inventory capable of such a sortie is the F22. We could have used Air Force birds, but the naval variant gives us much more flexibility. Besides, Captain, your squadron's experimental status allows us much more flexibility in cutting your op orders."

Kershaw turned the briefing back to the Admiral.

"Colonel MacKenzie, I would like you to go over the legal ramifications should we lose one of these aircraft over North Korea," said Blackmore, as he took the lectern.

"Yes, sir," replied Mac. "The loss of a US Military aircraft over North Korean soil can be, and most likely will be considered an act of war. Legally, North and South Korea are still in a state of war as an armistice was never signed officially calling for a cessation of hostilities. Under the Geneva Convention, Captain Rabb and Commander Keeter would be afforded the protections guaranteed as prisoners of war. Special Agent Webb, however, will be afforded no such protection and could be shot as a spy. Even if the ruse of posing as a naval officer were to work for the short term, I'm certain that the North Korean intelligence people have a dossier on him. I would highly recommend replacing him with military personnel."

"You're out of line, Colonel…" yelled Webb, before Kershaw silenced him with a look.

"Did you have anyone in mind, Colonel?" asked the DDI.

"I'd volunteer for the mission, sir…"

"It took me two weeks of intense training to learn these systems," interjected Webb. "We're just expected to turn them over to a lawyer…"

"Hasn't stopped you from using us in the past, Webb," said Harm. "You seem to forget our profession whenever it suits you."

"Enough of this," said Blackmore. "Colonel MacKenzie, I admire your courage, but I wouldn't even consider sending you on the mission for two very important reasons. First of all, Special Agent Webb is correct. Operating the imaging equipment isn't something you could learn in the few hours we have left, but most important, I'm not going to send a married couple into a combat situation, regardless of my belief that you both could handle it. If the two of you were captured or killed, the Navy would never survive the public outcry. That's not going to happen on my watch."

"I understand, sir," replied Mac.

"Since the chances of the Aurora getting shot down are next to nil, I won't bother to ask about that. And we already know the consequences of invading Chinese airspace so I trust we do not need to cover that aspect."

"No, sir," replied the three officers.

"Very well, Captain Rabb, Commander Keeter, I would suggest that the two of you get some rack time."

"Aye, aye, sir," they replied, coming to attention before they exited the room.

Once they left, Mac looked to the Admiral. She hadn't been dismissed yet so she waited for him to speak.

"Colonel MacKenzie, I'm leaving with Director Kershaw on the next COD, which is scheduled to depart two hours from now. If you wish, you may accompany us back to the mainland, or, you are free to fly back with your husband tomorrow afternoon."

"I'll fly back with the Captain, if that is all right, sir."

"I thought as much, carry on, Colonel."

"Aye, aye, sir."

With the Admiral's departure and Krennick handling the fallout from the Court Martial, Sarah found herself free of any military obligations until she returned to San Diego. Quickly she caught up with her husband who was heading back to the compartment they shared.

"Are you flying back with the Admiral?" asked Harm as they made their way through the ship.

"He gave me a choice; and since I'm flying back with you, that means you can't go and get yourself killed. You have to fly me home."

"I won't argue with that," he said opening the door to their cabin. Once inside he asked, "What are you going to do in the mean time?"

Stripping off her uniform she replied suggestively, "I'm going to spend the next several hours cuddling with my husband."


	18. Night Moves

**Chapter 17:**

**15:00 ZULU**

**Over the Sea of Japan, 190 miles east of the Korean DMZ**

Captain Harmon Rabb Jr. snapped the stick back, bringing his F-22 to a straight and level flight after completing several high speed turns and an aileron roll thrown in for good measure. The night sky over the ocean was crystal clear although the cloud shield covering the mainland was plainly visible as it moved in from the west. Harm glanced up at his mirror to catch a look at Clayton Webb. It might have been the low light but Harm was sure Clay looked a bit green around the gills. Although the aerobatic exercise was necessary, Captain Rabb allowed himself to take some small pleasure in it.

"Very funny, Rabb," Webb remarked, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Is this your revenge for not being allowed to take your wife along?"

"If we run into trouble, Webb, I need to know you aren't going to fold on me," replied Rabb. "And for your information, I don't put my wife at unnecessary risk, even if I do prefer her company to yours."

Webb responded only with a stone cold look in the mirror.

"By the way," Harm added, "If this were about revenge, I'd still be rolling this aircraft."

Rabb and his wingman, Jack Keeter, formed up with the flight of Hornets bound for Seoul. On radar, the F-22s were almost nonexistent and flying most of the way with the F-18s would render them invisible.

"You still blame me for getting Mac assigned to that op?" asked Webb, drawing Harm's attention. "We would have been fine had she not gone back for Galindez."

"You know her better than that, Clay. She would have never left him behind, just like she wouldn't have left you."

"Why do you think I asked for her?"

"Oh, believe me, I know why you asked for her," Harm offered. "And despite what you might think, your actions in Paraguay aren't the unnecessary risk I'm talking about, even though you had other trained CIA agents available. What really pissed me off is when you took that shot at Tanveer with Mac standing right next to him. Not to mention what it did to her with you letting her think you were dead. What the hell were you thinking?"

"It's part of the job, Rabb, you know that. Besides, she left me and married you, so what do you have to complain about?"

"I would rather see Sarah apart from me and happy, than to ever again see her go through the hell you put her through."

Webb had the good grace to say nothing. Up front, Harm knew he would never forget the look on her face when she showed up at his apartment and the gut wrenching feeling which tore through him while he watched her deal with the grief. Even now, over a year later, the image of her standing at his doorway brought tears to his eyes. Needing a diversion, he switched over to the short range set to converse with Jack. Muting the set from the rear seat so he could speak without being overheard by Webb, he called, "Bad-Man Two, this is Bad-Man One, how copy?"

"Right here, boss," replied Keeter, ignoring the radio protocol. With the frequencies and low power they were using, no one outside of a mile could hear them.

"Remember that promise, Jack?"

"I do," replied Keeter. "But don't worry, Hammer, we are both coming back from this mission. Besides, I landed a date with Commander Daigle when we get back to San Diego."

Harm chuckled to himself remembering the interaction between his friend and the petite red head. Jack seemed to be quite smitten with her.

"You're a dog, Keeter."

"Not this time, Hammer," his friend replied. "Don't let that little lady fool you. She knows exactly what she wants out of life and she isn't going to roll over for anyone, me included."

"I think I like her already," quipped Harm. "You need a strong woman to keep your ass in line."

"Just like you, partner," countered Jack.

"Are you kidding me Keeter? Mac would bend you like a pretzel."

"I don't doubt it. She's got you pretty well wrapped around her finger."

Harm didn't have an answer for that remembering what had transpired in the quarters a few hours before the mission. In the short time they had been married, Sarah had mastered a doe eyed expression which Harm found almost impossible to refuse.

"How do you suppose the North Koreans were able to plant so many agents in our midst, Harm? I don't believe for a second that they were able to do this on their own," Keeter offered, changing the subject.

Rabb had been pondering the same question since they first learned of Petty Officer Park's transgressions. This subject had been broached in the pillow talk he had shared with Mac. They had both agreed that the Russians or the Chinese would be the most likely suspects. Despite the thawing of the cold war after the breakup of the Soviet Union, both countries still employed a web of spies to keep tabs on each other.

"Let's ask our resident expert," said Rabb, as he tied his backseater into the conversation.

"Still awake back there, Clay?"

"With you flying this thing, I wouldn't dare try to sleep," Webb responded.

"I'm bringing Keeter on the line with us," said Rabb. "I was curious if the agency has any insight as to how the North Koreans were able to plant so many moles. Even one deep cover agent would seem to be beyond their reach."

"Sorry Rabb, that's classified," Clay offered.

"Classified, or the CIA got caught with their britches down," added Jack. "If you suspect something, it's time to spill. All our lives may depend on it."

Harm looked up at Webb's image in the mirror. The intel agent seemed to be mulling the situation over.

"Is this a secure circuit?"

"Low power encrypted," said Keeter. "This conversation is just between the three of us."

"The North Korean spy network is most likely run by the Chinese," Webb finally offered. "But we have a few unconfirmed reports which indicate that the FSB and Chinese Intelligence still share information and resources."

"I was under the impression that the Chinese had put some distance between themselves and the Russians," said Rabb.

"It's all comes down to ideology," Webb replied. "The bottom line is this, the Russians and the Chinese have more in common with the North Koreans than they do with us, despite what you read in the papers. Those Krypton missiles which were launched at the task force are currently used Russian hardware."

"I'm worried about SAMs, Webb. According to Naval Intelligence, the SA-21 has gone into limited service with the Russian Army," said Harm. "If there is even a chance we might face a top of the line surface to air missile, I think we need to know about it."

"Last report I had on the Growlers was the Russians aren't selling then to anyone, but that could be subject to change. Sorry Rabb, best I can give you."

That statement did nothing to assuage his concern. The Russian built SA-21 was nothing to take lightly. It had been designed specifically to take out the very aircraft he was flying.

"Coming up on breakaway point, Harm," said Keeter.

"Right," replied Rabb. "ET phone home." He switched the com set over to the satellite link frequency used by the CIA AWACS aircraft being used for mission coordination.

"Zebra Base, this is Bad-Man One, com check."

"Bad-Man One, Zebra Base, what's a matter. The Navy couldn't find any real pilots so they hired a lawyer to fly?"

Despite the heavy encryption used on the digitized Sat-Link, Rabb recognized the voice of his former CIA boss. A smile tugged on the corners of his mouth.

"Sounds like the agency isn't doing any better, bringing back an old Air America retread like you, Blaisdell. Are you ready to get to work?"

"You're a killjoy, Rabb," replied a chuckling Blaisdell. "Prepare for breakaway maneuver and maintain radio silence until you reach Waypoint Alpha. We'll coordinate then. Zebra Base out."

"Wilco, out," replied Rabb. He switched back to his link with Keeter. "Keeter, Hammer, break in three…two…one…mark!"

In near perfect synchronization, the pair of F-22s peeled off from the formation and dove for the ocean below. They began pulling out of the dive and leveled off two hundred feet above the water. They continued to race north at almost the speed of sound.

...

In the CIC of the _Patrick Henry_, Colonel Sarah MacKenzie watched the mission unfold on the tactical display while waging an internal battle with her anxiety. Try as she may she was unable to shake the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that something was going to happen to her husband. The only thing standing between her and a meltdown was her rigid Marine Corps training. She might be scared to death, but hell be dammed if she'd show it.

Beside her, Captain Ingles and Admiral Richards were also watching the screen with interest. Mac assumed the Admiral was concerned about retaliation towards his battle group but she believed the Skipper's interest was of a more personal nature. Her husband had locked horns with the Skipper some years ago over a case involving his former RIO Lt. Hawkes. She also knew that the two men had not allowed the incident to mar their mutual respect for each other. Ingles had been one of the men directly responsible for saving Harm's life after that ill fated flight five years ago had dropped him in the Atlantic. To this day, she still had pangs of guilt knowing Harm was trying to get back in time for her wedding to Mic.

"Coffee, Colonel?"

Mac returned to the present to see the ship's captain handing her a fresh cup. She accepted it graciously, "Thank you, Skipper."

She took a sip of the beverage finding it to be black and strong, just the way she liked it. _At least someone on this tub knows how to make good coffee,_ she thought. Although he was getting much better, Harm's normal brew had always been a tad weak for her taste, unless he made the pot especially for her consumption.

She nodded her approval, "I needed a good cup of coffee, Skipper."

"Thought so," he replied. "You look worried," Ingles added.

"I am."

"Colonel MacKenzie, I've seen quite a few aviators fly off of this deck since taking command," said the Skipper. "Your husband is one of the finest aviators I know. He'll be all right."

His statement brought a reticent smile to her face, remembering her own knowledge and experience concerning Harm's skill in the cockpit. Some of her experience had been first hand. Several years ago, she had seen him fly and land a 747 jumbo jet while under fire from the North Koreans. He had not only saved her own life, but the lives of over three hundred passengers and crew.

"Thanks, Skipper," she offered, just loud enough for him to hear, still being occupied by her own thoughts.

In all the time she had known Harm, Sarah had only flown with him twice in his own aircraft, a Stearman biplane he had restored himself while he recuperated from his ramp strike. The first flight had taken place very early in their friendship as she had known him for less than a year, but their shared ordeal that day had forever cemented their friendship, a friendship which would endure many trials in the years to come.

It would be another eight years before they had a chance to repeat that flight. Immediately following the car accident on Christmas Eve, she and Harm had started dating, although neither of them would ever call it what it was. The fact remained that they were spending most of their free time together.

The weekend before she went to San Diego for the JAG conference, she asked Harm to take her back up in _Sarah_, the name he had given his aircraft. Before they had suffered the fuel line failure, Mac was dearly enjoying herself on the first flight Harm had taken her on.

The weather had been bitter cold that morning although it had moderated somewhat by the time they got to the field. Harm and Mac spent most of the day in the air that Saturday as he flew them to a field in Myrtle Beach a few hundred miles south, stopping for fuel once along the way. They had stayed overnight in Myrtle Beach and flew back Sunday afternoon. For Mac, the trip with him had been therapeutic beyond words. It seemed that things were looking up for their relationship when fate chose, once again, to throw them a curve. Mattie's accident had caused Harm to close up; pushing everyone he cared about away. The only thing which kept Mac from falling into the same destructive pattern was the fact she had a sounding board in the form of Commander McCool.

Sarah had made the four hour drive to Blacksburg after Harm had refused to return her calls, only to have him push her away. Mac knew he was in pain but his actions still cut her very soul. The following day, Mac discussed what had transpired with Vicky McCool believing that she was once again being pushed aside because she wasn't good enough.

_"How do you know he's just doing this to you?"_ McCool had asked. _"Have you spoken to any of his other friends?"_

_"No, I haven't,"_ Mac had answered. _"I just assumed he didn't want me around anymore."_

_"How about his parents, have you spoken with them?"_

_"No, I didn't feel it was my right to intrude."_

_"He may be pushing them aside as well. This may not be about you at all."_

Mac hadn't considered that before now. As soon as she arrived home from her appointment she found a message from Trish on her machine. Mac returned the call and found out he hadn't even told his mother about the incident. The knowledge both relieved and angered her. _Damn you, Harmon Rabb,_ she had thought to herself. _I'm going to kick your six._

The next morning, Mac cornered him in his office and told him in no uncertain terms to call his mother. When he started to get accusative, she simply said, _"Trish called me wondering if her son was still alive, Harm. You need to call her, and no matter what, I'm still here for you when you decide you need me…"_ Sarah hadn't been able to finish her thought before her voice cracked. Before she could get to the door, he had reached for her arm.

_"Mac…Sarah…wait,"_ he had said. His use of her given name caused her to freeze in her tracks.

Slowly he took her shoulders and she looked up into his grief filled eyes.

_"I need to do this alone,"_ he had said. _"Please, just understand, it's not about you."_

She had only nodded, not trusting herself to speak. For the next three weeks, she found herself worrying sick over him, as he worked all day and spent most every evening at the hospital, which was four hours away from DC. It was the same type of gut wrenching worry she was experiencing right now.

...

"Zebra Base, this is Bad-Man One, approaching Waypoint Alpha."

"Bad-Man One, Zebra Base, standby to execute," replied Blaisdell over the satellite link. "Spectrum One, Zebra Base, report."

"Zebra Base, Spectrum One, in position."

"Zebra Base, to all units, execute."

Rabb and Keeter pulled their sticks to the left, making a perfect ninety degree turn. They would shortly be entering North Korean airspace. He looked in the mirror and noted that Webb seemed preoccupied running the "spook pod" as Rabb had dubbed it. _I guess we'll see just how well stealth works on this aircraft._

Up ahead he could see the lights lining the coast. Running under full EMCON, the use of terrain following radar would not be allowed and Rabb had to depend on the FLIR system to keep him from running into the mountainous terrain. Fortunately, the GPS navigation system would warn him well in advance of turning his aircraft into a lawn dart.

To the south, Rabb could see that the Aurora over flight near the capitol was raising quite a ruckus. He counted more than a dozen SAM missiles leaping into the night sky. Once they were over land, Harm gently banked his aircraft north and began to trace the route along the Chinese border. Behind him, Webb continued to work in silence which was fine with Harm, as maintaining the flight profile took intense concentration. Suddenly, he began to notice SAMs being launched all around him, but, so far, none of the radar units had managed to lock on to his aircraft.

The threat receiver continued to blink sporadically as the sky was being swept by the enemy antiaircraft batteries. It briefly occurred to him that he was flying a very similar mission profile to the one his father had flown almost thirty four years ago. All at once, the threat receiver indicated radar lock and Harm yanked the stick hard left while breaking radio silence.

"Break right," he said to his wingman, hoping they could straddle the AA battery directly below. The SAM which was launched passed within fifty feet of his aircraft.

"What the hell was that, Rabb?" yelled Webb.

"SAM battery," replied Harm. "We must have flown right over it."

Rabb banked back to the right reforming with Keeter. They continued heading west, occasionally dodging AA flak from below.

...

"They should be about halfway through now," Ingles said to Mac, as they watched the drama unfold on the tactical display. On the screen, she could see numerous traces made by the surface to air missiles being launched at the intruding aircraft. She was so entranced in watching the scenario on the screen that she failed to respond when the senior officer had spoken.

"Colonel MacKenzie?"

His voice snapped her back to the present and she automatically responded, "I'm sorry, sir, you asked me a question?"

"Are you all right?"

"Fine, sir," she lied. "Just lost in thought."

"They're a little over halfway by now," he repeated for her benefit. "Once they clear the coast, they'll turn south and land in Seoul to refuel. Harm will be back on board in a little over two hours."

"Yes, sir," she replied absently. _Not nearly soon enough,_ she thought. _Nothing to do but wait._

"Tell me, Colonel," Ingles asked. "Rabb once told me the two of you punched out of a MIG-29 over Russia. Is that a true story, or is it a _no shitter._

Mac found herself smiling at the Captain's use of the traditional Navy name for a good old fashioned bull shit yarn.

"It's a true story, sir," she replied.

"I think I'd like to hear the rest of it."

"It's also a very long story, sir," she added.

"Well Colonel," replied the older officer. "The way I see it, we have at least two hours to kill."

Sarah looked at him, almost in disbelief. Tobias Ingles had a reputation of being a real hard ass, something she had seen herself. But here he was offering to take her mind away from her fears, at least for a while.

"Well, sir, it all started about eight years ago…"

...

"Hammer, break left, break left!"

Harm pulled his fighter into a steep bank while engaging the thrust vectoring which caused the enemy MIG-29 to overshoot his position. A few seconds later the same MIG exploded as Commander Keeter's sidewinder blew it out of the sky.

They were approaching the west coast when they were jumped by a pair of MIGs which had been lying in wait circling in one of the valleys. Had it not been for the thrust vectoring capability of the F-22, Harm was certain that he and Jack would have been shot down.

The remaining MIG, decided not to pursue and broke off as they crossed over the beach and turned south.

"Thanks, Keeter," said Rabb. "I owe you one."

"No problem, Hammer. I made your wife a promise that I'd look out for you. Let's get some altitude, break Mach One and get the hell out of here."

Harm pulled back on the stick and firewalled his engine. By the time they had broken the sound barrier, they were above twenty thousand. Rabb switched to the intercom.

"How are you doing back there, Webb, did we get what we needed?"

"Yeah, we got it. I'm uploading the data now."

"Did you find what you were looking for?" asked Harm.

"I can't talk about the specifics right now, Rabb," replied Webb. "But I can tell you this much, none of this is good news. We just may be going to war, not only with the North Koreans, but also the Chinese."


End file.
